


It's Just an Experiment

by Amydiddle



Series: Just an Experiment + Extras [1]
Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: (Or maybe it is more morally-grey sides), (they get better in the future so don't worry), Abandonment Issues, Blood, Body Horror, Creativitwins, Death, Drowning, Gen, Gore, Graphic Description, Gun Violence, Hanging, Intrusive Thoughts, Major character death - Freeform, Overdose, Poison, Remus needs help, Suicidal Remus Sanders, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide, Suicide Attempt, Sympathetic Dark Creativity | Remus "The Duke" Sanders, Temporary Character Death, Unsympathetic Anxiety | Virgil Sanders, Unsympathetic Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders, Unsympathetic Logic | Logan Sanders, Unsympathetic Morality | Patton Sanders, Unsympathetic sides, dark themes, drug overdose, falling, feeling alone, jumping, suffocation, summaries are hard
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-22
Updated: 2020-09-30
Packaged: 2021-02-18 09:23:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 9
Words: 58,754
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21508801
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Amydiddle/pseuds/Amydiddle
Summary: Remus was a lot of things; trashy, gross, inappropriate. He did things without thinking and ignored any consequences that came of it. That is what everyone told him about himself so it had to be true. Everything he did was just a passing whim of unimportance."It's just an experiment," He told himself as he held the blade aloft.."It's just to see what happens," he mumbled as he slowly tied the rope."I just want to feel something," he thought as the water lapped at his feet"I just want it to stop," he prayed as poured out the pills"Can a side even die?"He asked to the wind as he fell toward the ground.*PLEASE READ ALL THE TAGS!*
Series: Just an Experiment + Extras [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1718956
Comments: 353
Kudos: 455





	1. Jump

**Author's Note:**

> This is a fic filled with successful suicide attempts but since the individual has the ability to revive they are counted as attempts and a form of self harm.  
> Please understand this is not pro-suicide.  
> Please be aware and read the tags for this fic.  
> Take care of yourself and if you ever have thoughts of suicide talk to someone.  
> There are resources out there that can help you. I might link them in the end notes later.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **  
>  **   
>  _The first time he tried he was just sixteen_   
> 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So you might notice that this chapter is different then what you may have read before. 
> 
> I edited it...a lot. Okay so it got rewritten. But, hey, it is the same thing. Hope you still like it?
> 
> TW for chapter: Suicide, Death, Body Horror, Falling, Death by Falling, Dark Thoughts, Nursery Rhyme Slander

** JUMP **

**_The first time he tried he was sixteen._ **

Remus found himself on top of a tall skyscraper.

The windows were blown out and vines crawled up the concrete structure. Down below the streets were broken as the earth moved to reclaim them. His little apocalypse city that had spawned from Thomas’ interest in that genre of books.

Wind tussled his already messy hair as he paced around on the old roof. Any hole or possible crack was easily avoided.

Any moment now his brother would show up and they could continue their game. He was so excited. He could already see the zombies slow march towards them, the unlucky pair that had survived. How Roman would do his best to keep them both alive. The sheer horror on his twin’s face when it was revealed that Remus had been bitten long before they got to shelter.

Remus giggled and spun around on his toes, “And then he will probably find a cure or something at the last minute the sentimental sap.”

He glanced down at his wristwatch and a small frown appeared on his face.

Roman should have been there five minutes ago.

“Just running late as always,” he told himself.

Five minutes turned to ten. The ten turned to thirty.

Remus found himself at the end of the hour sitting on the edge of the roof as the sun began to slowly sink. Nerves ate away at his stomach as the coolness of the night started to surround him.

It was not like his brother to just forget a quest.

He rested his elbows on his knees so his hands could support his head. His eyes glazed over as he looked down at the street. Fog had covered up some of the view, almost made it look like one could just fall forever into an endless cloudy world. Once upon a time he had believed that he could run on top of clouds.

Logic had corrected that dream.

“Wonder what it would be like to fall,” he whispered to the wind, “Just fall down, down, down into the never-ending void.”

A small giggle left him before he went quiet once more.

 _“Jack and Jill went up the hill_  
To fetch a pail of water  
Jack fell down  
And broke his crown  
And Jill came tumbling after.”

Remus hummed as his thoughts fluttered in and out like bats in a cave.

He did not fear much. He thought heights were fun, ran into battles easily, and even laughed in the face of getting beaten to a pulp. But this, this was new. Not fear, not joy, not horror, not sadness, not anything he had ever known before

This was a sense of calm that washed over him like a flood of water. That sank into his bones and made his skin feel so cold and numb. His body craved something, but his mind refused to admit to the what.

His thoughts flew back to the nursery rhyme. A desperate attempt to avoid what he craved.

But he knew. He could never avoid a thought, after all.

“There they lay, left to decay  
Beside their pale of water.  
Jack’s blood spilt  
Jill’s bones cracked  
And there they stay  
Sleeping forever after.”

Remus giggled before he bit his lip to stop the sound. A new habit he was starting to learn. It was necessary if he wanted to keep playing with his brother.

Patton hated it when he would make nursery rhymes worse. Patton always told him to stop. Patton did not understand that the original rhyme was already about Jack busting his head open. Patton could take Roman away if he was not careful.

_“Would he care if I fell down and broke my crown?”_

Something wet started to slide down his face. He touched his cheek confused. Tears wet his fingers. He did not feel sad, but if he wasn’t sad then why was he crying?

_“Would Roman care?”_

Remus felt himself stand up. An old puppet pulled up by his strings. He felt like he was moving outside of his own body. The thoughts in his head buzzed like an angry swarm of hornets. His heart moved fast in his chest. He was aware of very beat.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

The tips of his toes hung off the edge. A simple slip would have him tumbling down like Jack and Jill.

“Humpty Dumpty sat on a wall,” his voice sounded distant.

 _“What if I just jumped?_  
Jump. Jump. Jump.  
Is falling like flying?  
Jump. Jump. Jump  
What is it like to die?  
Jump. Jump. Jump.”

“Humpty Dumpty had a great fall.”

He moved a leg to stick straight out and he balanced on his left leg. His body swayed on the single limb. Back and forth; to the edge and away. A dance with death that made his heartbeat faster.

Thump, thump, thump.

_“Watch Roman show up now. The dramatic bastard.”_

He turned his head and looked. The roof was still empty.

No sudden appearance of the hero. Not this time.

Remus glanced at the watch around his wrist; it was two hours past the time their game should have started. The wet feeling continued to slide down his face. He found it annoying.

 _“Will Roman even care?_  
Fall.  
How hard will I impact the ground?  
Jump.  
How far will my brains fly?  
Go.  
Will they paint the street red?  
Jump. Jump. Jump.  
Will my limbs twist into terrible directions?”

“All the king’s horses and all the king’s men.”

Remus closed his eyes and took a breath.

_“Can a side even die?”_

“Couldn’t put Humpty together again.”

His body tilted and he no longer felt the solid stone of the roof. A loud whistle echoed around his ears as his body began to move down towards the earth below. Strangely he did not feel like he was falling. He felt many things but not like he was falling.

He felt alive.

He felt free.

He felt calm.

He felt happy.

A laugh escaped his mouth as he opened his eyes to watch the world get closer and closer. A laugh that echoed off the buildings around him. It sounded crazed. It sounded real. It sounded free. It was purely him. Not the person he was pretending to be just so that he could hang around someone that does not want him around. Not the opposite to Roman. Not the ‘other one’.

This was the real him, out for the first time in a long time. Alone and falling in all his gory glory.

The cool mist of the clouds and fog kissed at his skin. A somber goodbye or an embrace of welcome he could not quite say. He did not have to time to. As fast as the moment of life and freedom presented itself it ended. Not with a laugh or a cry or even a bang; but with a loud slap that covered the echo of the laugh.

The moment was so fast that he did not feel the pain. All he knew was one moment he was there, free at last, and the next was nothingness. Silence; the first time he had ever experienced such a thing in his entire life.

The city fell silent as the fog covered the evidence from any view from above. The streets below settled back into their abandoned state as the broken asphalt ran red with blood.

*

*

*

Consciousness crawled its way back to him like a man who lost his legs to a bomb explosion. Slow and with great agony. Desperate to get to his destination despite how much the world urged him to just lay down and die. Remus wished that it would just give up but by the time he could even make such a wish, consciousness had taken her vile hold on him once more.

The rough pavement under his face brought a small whimper out of him. The very noise caused him to wince. The facial expression caused muscles that he did not even know existed to cry out in pure agony.

His head felt like it was both full of cotton and that there was a tiny person hammering away at his skull. He wanted to go back into the silence of the void. Thoughts were already trying to generate but they made no sense; not that they ever did.

_“Smoosh! What a funny word, smoosh. Kind of sounds like Smooch.”_

He giggled and instantly regretted it. Every nerve burned with the rays of a thousand suns. He wanted to cry out, but his body did not have the energy to do such an action.

Remus was surprised when he got an eye to slowly pry itself open. Dark spots danced in his vision and every breath felt like he had inhaled glass again. He fought the pull of sleep and tried to take in his surroundings.

_“Poopy.”_

The city was encompassed by the blanket of night. His best guess would be that it was past midnight. The full moon above him cast an eerie glow on the world around him. Her light helped him behold the carnage of his own body.

Remus stared at the road he laid on as it began to register. A masterpiece he never knew he wanted laid before him.

His blood shone in the moonlight. A terrible beauty about it that made him stare in awe. It painted the black asphalt, the sides of the buildings, the abandoned cars; just everything a wonderful color red shining with silver light. Grey matter mixed with it close to him that he could only guess had been a part of his brain at one point. It would not surprise him if his head was literally split in two.

He blinked the one open eye slowly. A bloody tongue licked his lips before he tried to move. A loud snap broke the silence of the night as his neck twisted. Only then did he realize that his head had been snapped to the side by the impact. Out of the proper position and now back to where it should be.

His neck was not the only broken bone.

One arm was bent at an impossible angle. A bone stuck out with jagged edges that still dripped with beautiful red. It seemed like the broken end was a hand that reached out up to the sky in a plea to once again be a part of it. It matched how one of his legs looked. Desperate monster claws that called for the freedom of the clouds.

Remus tried to move a toe. He could not tell if it was successful, which led him to believe that his legs were completely shattered. He had no chance of moving from his temporary final resting place. Which was fine by him.

Surrounded by a work of art he made all on his own without restraint, he felt at ease.

 _“Painting the roses red,”_ his thoughts sang as black dots danced around in his vision to the tune.

He giggled to himself as his cheek rested once more against the bloody pavement. His eye closed and he fell back into the void once more.

*

*

*

Remus was hot. A bead of sweat rolled down from his hair line and down his nose. He felt it drip onto his hand.

A groan of annoyance left the side. He did not like waking up sweaty, meant that he had been moving around in his sleep. Meant that he was probably tangled up in a web of blankets. With a pout on his face he opened his eyes to assess the damages.

The bright light of day hit his eyes first and an irritated hiss left him. Eyes snapped closed as he tried to hide his face in his arm. The light made his head burn more than a thousand suns. He wanted to curl up into a ball and sleep for a hundred years.

His legs and ribs protested as he tried to do just that. The burn of the pain did not match the agony that was taking place inside his skull.

Why his face was scratched against concrete, why he smelt iron and something rotten, and why he hurt so much did not occur to him. All the side knew was that he wanted to hide away from the sun with as little movement as possible.

Once situated he let himself fall back into a dose.

_“Gonna burn on the road. Gonna cook like an egg. Just sizzle right up or maybe blow up like a balloon like roadkill. Why did I have to jump from a building in a desert environment? Couldn’t die somewhere colder-.”_

His eyes snapped open and he sat up at a speed that made his aching head swim, his back crack, and his stomach twist. He wanted to throw up, but he was hit was a startling realization.

“I’m not dead!?!”

He regretted the outburst as a wave of coughs made him hunch over. His chest felt like it was on fire with every move. He could feel the broken and bruised bones crying for him to stop. Iron once against filled his mouth as he spit out a terrible mix of saliva and blood.

Remus groaned at the rough pain in his chest. Only awake for a few minutes and he already wanted to go back to sleep.

But first he had to take stock.

He looked at the arm that had become his pillow sometime during his comatose slumber. It had been the same arm that had a bone jutted out of it. The bone no longer broke through the skin, but he still felt the pain of a broken limb. Blood had stained and matted down his shirt where the open break had once been. He resisted the urge to poke at the wound to look at his legs.

It was obvious he could move them now even with the intense pain that gave him. His legs now moved at his command albeit with some pain. Blood leaked slowly out of the open gash where a bone had once been.

He put his hands on either side of his head to make sure it was on straight. He felt the scrape marks and the flakes of drying blood.

He felt his heart beating in his chest.

Slowly but surely his body was repairing itself.

“I’m alive,” he said the words cautiously.

Remus was not sure how to feel. He supposed he should be happy that he got to see the work that his jump had created. See the art of the blood on the street. Remember the freeing sense of falling.

But that calm sense before the fall was no longer there. The happiness of being alive had dulled into the pain that raced through his bones.

A part of him was disappointed that it didn’t take. Another saw this as a challenge. And a sliver was relieved that the impulse had no consequence beside pain.

All he knew for certain that he wanted to do now was to lay back on the broken street, in the drying puddle of blood. He shaded his face from the sun with his hand and looked at the skyscraper that had been the method for his destruction.

He had spent an entire night under the broken building. Nothing but a corpse that slowly began to stitch itself back together. Remus would like to believe he died a couple of times under the stars. His body’s unnatural configuration putting him into a state of limbo between this world and the next.

_“What gets me over to the next? Is there a way for a side to get there? Can a side even go the Hell? Cause there is no way I am getting to heaven.”_

He cracked a bitter smile before his face went blank. A cloud moved across the blue sky lazily. The top of the skyscraper was too far up to see. A hazy blur of a moment long passed.

A whole night rotting under the stars and no one had come. No one wondered where he went.

Roman never showed up for their game.

The wet feeling was back on his cheeks. Remus wanted to believe that it was just more sweat from lying in the sun. A broken smile split over his face and it quickly morphed into a sneer.

 _“How dare he not show up! He could have just said he didn’t want to play.  
He didn’t even get so see the **pretty artwork. Oh how sad he couldn’t see his favorite color splashed across the earth.**_ ”

Remus closed his eyes tightly and took a few deep breaths despite the fire in his chest. The swirl of thoughts made him dizzy; too dizzy.

Always dizzy. Always spinning.

_“Spin. Spin. Spin around the rosy,_   
_Pocket full of posy_   
_Ashes. Ashes._   
_Ashes of the burned bodies._   
_All in my hair. In my face._   
_Why are there so many?_

_Why am I not part of them? Why can’t I fly away like a little **ash? Fly so high to nowhere. Insignificant and free. Free to do as it pleases.”**_

Remus blinked. His eyes felt dry like he had not blinked in a long time.

The sun had moved behind the skyscraper, so it was possible he had. Lost once more in the thoughts he was not allowed to share.

He pursed his lips and gave a low hum.

“Guess sides can’t die,” he paused for a small giggle, “What a pity.”

He tolled onto his side and tried to push himself to his feet. His arms shook and body screamed against it. With a defeated sigh he let his body rest against the warm asphalt.

A meaningless tune was hummed to fill the silence of the city as he thought. He thought and thought and thought. Only to slide into dreams filled with just as much noise as his waking world.


	2. Slice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Two years have passed and Remus has started a routine.   
> Unfortunately Roman comes to ruin it and Remus runs away. 
> 
> TW: Cutting, Suicidal/self-harm habit, sibling fights, attempted murder, fratricide, strangulation, skull bashing, jumping from high places, blood, keeping suicidal thoughts of others a secret, razor blade, slightly unsympathetic Roman (he is just being a bratty brother), slightly unsympathetic Remus

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always my intention is not to idealize suicidal thoughts but to explore the darker theme. In this case, suicidal actions are a form of self harm for a character that cannot physically die. If someone reading this were to attempt these actions there would be unchangeable consequences. 
> 
> Please, if you have suicidal thoughts or have a plan, speak to someone you trust, use a suicide prevention line, or go see a professional. Mental health is just as important as your physical health. I am providing the WHO website on suicide prevention.
> 
> Stay safe. <3
> 
> https://www.who.int/health-topics/suicide#tab=tab_1

** Slice **

**_The seas run red, this is the death of beauty._ **

Remus’ mind never let go of that night. It was played on a constant loop in his thoughts. Like an addict who needed a fix he continued to let his mind rove back to that skyscraper. To that nosedive into the pavement. The sound of his bones snapping were like an orchestra.

He would dream about how he had laughed. He’d eat breakfast and think of how he head felt free. He’d be drawing and let his mind wander to how nice the silence was when he hit the ground. Sitting with Roman and only thinking about how pretty the street looked covered in his blood. How his body had ached and how he had finally felt alive. He’d lay in bed at night and long for that himself for the first time in so, so long.

At first Remus would simply store the thoughts with the rest of his ‘bad’ concoctions, but then he found himself walking back to the scene of accident. He’d look at the blood that had begun to dry on the street. He would look up at the roof far above the clouds. He told himself he would not go back up there and walk away.

Until one day he found himself back on that ledge. His toes were just off the edge and he could barely see the road down below. Storm clouds started to form. His mouth felt dry. The quickened heartbeat in his ears was what drove him back down the stairs.

Yet there were a few times he woke up to a broken neck in a puddle of his own blood. A splattered brain would work slowly to recall what had occurred before a broken smile across his face. He would lay there until he could move again and slowly make his way out of the imagination. He would take the long way to his room despite the pain.

All those times he had limped through the living room no one asked where he had been for a week. No one questioned the scar along his forehead that cut his eyebrow. No one even glanced up at him as he limped by. No one cared. No one seemed to see him.

And the cycle repeated from there. He would be fine for awhile and then suddenly find himself back at in that abandoned city set in preparation for his next magical feat of survival. A performance for himself to show off what he could be and create.

A tiny part of him wished the next jump would be the last. That the silence that he dived for would not ask for anymore encore performances, but that was never the case. So he continued to chase the high. For two years he followed the pattern. Sometimes trying to do flips before he fell. Sometimes he just let go.

At twenty years old, Remus Sanders found that he no longer wanted to perform the aerial stunts to silence. He had tried every trick in the air, every shout he could say, and every method of falling. The adrenaline had stopped it’s magic long ago. The fall bored him, the smack on the pavement became predictable, and the now permanent creak in his neck was an annoyance instead of a pride filled memory.

Remus opened his eyes as he laid on the familiar pavement. For a second he thought he had let himself fall again but the lack of pain told him he merely laid down for a nap. The sun had warmed the asphalt around him and the layers of old blood spread around him nicely.

He was proud of his art. A lazy smile stretched onto his face as he settled back into the warmth of the sun.

“What the heckity heck!?!”

The side’s eyes opened wide at the familiar voice and he snapped his head in the direction. There, at the end of the broken street, was Roman.

For a second, shame washed over Remus, but it was gone just as fast. Excitement took its place. He could show his brother his art. They could play the game they were supposed to play.

“Romano!” Remus was on his feet in a second. The grin on his face pulled taunt as he tried to crush the prince in a hug. Roman dodged with practice eased and tripped his brother.

Remus laughed as he hit the rough pavement. The scratches on his face only gave him the small buzz that he had started to crave once more. He rolled over onto his back and smiled up at Roman even as the scrapes began to sting.

“What are you doing in my little broken apocalypse town? Finally come to play some zombie smasher?”

“Is that what you have been doing here? Smashing zombies?” Roman’s eyes moved back to the mess of blood that stained the street and buildings. “You made an awful mess while doing it.”

Remus snorted, “Oh, I do more than just smash if you know what I am saying.”

The duke pushed himself back to his feet and smirked, “I mean fucking if that wasn’t clear. Necrophilia and a biting kink just get me _so_ riled up.”

Remus loved how easily his brother believed him. The look on Roman’s face was priceless. The paleness of his cheeks, the wide eyes of horror and disgust, and tiny fleck of hope that Remus would say ‘kidding’ when he knew that Em would not. That would ruin the fun.

It would be like him actually telling his brother that he had been stuffing marshmallow fondant into empty deodorant containers. He was not that committed in the whole being dead thing to try self-poisoning yet. The method was on the list of things to try out with a whole sub-list on items to do it with.

“Why are you so gross?” Roman’s words brought Remus back to reality.

He tilted his head to the side confused. Roman often got annoyed with what he said but the tone was different. It sounded annoyed. Not the good kind of annoyed.

“Because, I just am? What is up with you today, you are acting like someone shoved your sword right up your butthole.”

As he said the word, the sword started to move out of Roman’s scabbard. He watched the blade curiously as he lined up in position. Just as it was about to demonstrate the act Roman let out a shriek and it turned into a balloon.

Remus could not help but to snicker. The snicker only turned into full on laughter when the restored blade was pointed at his chest.

“How many times do I have to tell you to not mess with my sword?”

Remus held up his hands in a faux surrender and shrugged his shoulders, “You are going to have to specify which one.”

He winked and laughed at his brother’s stuttering.

 _“He is just too easy to rile up,”_ he thought.

“That is…no! That is vile even for you!”

Roman jabbed his sword forward to accentuate the point. Remus leaned back at the last moment so the blade would not puncture his shirt.

“Oh come on. You got your panties in such a tight twist, I am surprised your dick hasn’t fallen off,” he rolled his eyes and stepped out of the way of another sword poke, “I’m just messing with you, Bro-mano.”

“Don’t call me that.”

Remus frowned. Roman was always a stick in the butt, but this was just unwarranted hostility.

“Why are you even over here, anyway? I thought the ‘forgotten apocalypse’ wasn’t on-brand for you anymore. Won’t there be a scandal for just having set foot in this place?”

Remus feigned a gasp, “Or could it be my brother finally wants to act out something fun instead of running off with princesses that he does not actually like.”

Roman gasped and placed a hand over his chest. His cheeks began to glow red as he struggled to find a comeback to such an accusation.

“I-…you-…I do so like them!”

Remus giggled and then did some exaggerated sniffs to the air, “Is that some bullshit I smell coming from your mouth or is Deceit currently in the Imagination with you? Are you doing the snake to keep up that lie?”

Roman’s face seemed to match the red sash as he shoved the sword back into the scabbard. Remus had never seen his brother so frazzled from just the taunts. Normally the duke had to get physical before Roman lost it. Roman was always more fun when he lost it.

“Why must you be so impossible?” Roman hissed through his teeth before he took a long breath, “No. I am not falling into this banter today, Remus, I have an actual purpose for being here.”

“It’s not to meet up with someone and fuck them, is it? I can’t keep that secret to myself.”

Roman pinched the bridge of his nose, “No. It is about this city scape set-up; I realized last night that we have never really done anything with it since we made it four years ago.”

Whatever comeback Remus wanted to say died on his tongue and he could only stare at his brother.

_“Did Roman remember that failed scene we were making? Are we finally going to do it now? Can I get my brain slowly infected with a **zombie virus? Have Roman watch my eyes as they cloud over from death, yet I still walk among the living? Feast on the goodness of flesh!?!”**_

Remus was practically vibrating where he stood. If Roman did not stop with the flowery language and get to the point, he would probably vibrate a hole into the Earth. Find his way to a molten core and “ **slowly get cooked alive until my insides explode.”**

“So I have this excellent new plan,” Roman said unaware of the thoughts in his brother’s head, “We can bulldoze this whole place and make it into a real Tomorrow Land!”

Remus stopped vibrating and the grin that had started to stretch over his face dropped. The dream of the zombie bites and bloody battles turned to dust just as fast as they had formed.

“What?”

“Well, obviously we cannot use the name ‘Tomorrow Land’ because that is Disney’s thing, but it would be just a perfect place for a futuristic cityscape! Can’t you see it, the sleek buildings, the flying cars, and ‘Meet the Jetsons’ playing for the first day before I get sick of it.”

Roman twirled on his toes. His grin was as large as Remus’ had been. The sight of such joy made Remus feel like he had drunk a lot of sour milk again. It had been fun at the time but now all he felt was the revenge of the spoiled drink.

“So, tell me your thoughts?” Roman bounced on his toes, “Do you love it? Or really love it?”

Remus looked around the street. His blood was splattered across the pavement, the old buildings that he had crafted so carefully, and then he looked at Roman’s grinning face.

“I don’t…know?”

Roman’s grin started to slip away, “What?”

Remus rubbed the back of his neck, “I just. I like this place as it is, ya’ know? I get to kill all the zombies that I want right here.”

“And make a mess of a perfectly useable area?” Roman’s smile was gone completely and replaced with a dark frown.

“Why do you even want a future world? You are all about high fantasy,” Remus spat back.

He crossed his arms and tried to stand tall. He did not want to let go of his broken little world. His lisle oasis of silence that he could not get anywhere else. Roman would not understand.

_“He doesn’t have to shut up his ideas.”_

“I can expand my interests,” Roman shot back.

The brothers stood nose to nose; each with a glare that could kill if that was even possible for them.

“Not into my city!”

Remus did not want it to all go away. He liked the silence here. He liked the freedom it gave him.

“Remus, this place is crumbling. I know you like trash, but this is excessive.”

Roman waved a hand at the painted streets where the dried blood peeled and the fresher stains dried.

“You made a mess and I here, once more, to clean it up.” A wave of the wrist had years of work disappear into the air. “You can fight zombies in your actual place in the imagination, but this is going to be Tomorrow La-AH!”

Remus was not aware of his body moving but as soon as he saw years of hard work destroyed. The painting he had made with his literal blood, sweat, tears, and other bodily fluids taken away so fast. The spoiled milk finally turned into something he could act on.

Rage.

Roman’s back hit the asphalt and Remus heard the back of his brother’s skull crack against it. His hands wrapped around Roman’s throat and squeezed tight. He couldn’t let go, not even as Roman scratched at his wrists. As his brother’s tried to get off.

The rage blinded him and fueled him into destroying the one that had taken his one little happiness away from him.

“Why. Do. You. Take. Everything. From. **ME!?!”**

Remus shook his brother with every word. He saw the fresh red begin to spread from under Roman’s head. He did not care.

He did not care because no one else cared.

“R-Rem-mus…s-shtop,” the words were struggled out. A whisper that would have been unheard by even the wind.

They broke through Remus’ rage as if they were as loud as a canon blast. The side jolted back from his brother as if he had been burned. His palms scraped against the harsh asphalt of the road as he distanced himself as far as he could until his back hit the wall of the skyscraper.

He could only watch as Roman sucked in desperate breaths and rolled onto his side. Remus’ eyes locked onto the red that matted down the usually pristine hair on the back of his brother’s head. His eyes moved down to watch in horrific fascination at the red around his twin’s neck showed an imprint of his hands.

He had done that.

He had almost killed his brother.

Roman’s eyes slowly found his own and Remus saw a look he had never seen on his brother’s face before. One of horror, of anger, and of hatred.

“I didn’t… I…Ro-,” Remus reached out a hand but pulled back when Roman flinched away.

In a second the sword was once again pointed at him. The blade no longer felt safe or protective.

“Don’t touch me,” Roman’s voice was horse and rough, “Don’t you fucking touch me.”

“I didn’t mean to-.”

Roman laughed but it fell into a series of coughs. Remus was not scared of a lot, but he was scared of that laugh. He was scared of the look that his brother was sending to him. He was scared for his safety for the first time in a long time.

“You never _mean_ to, Remus,” Roman sneers, “But you just do. You do and someone always gets hurt because of it. Why can’t you just be normal for once? You make it so hard to keep you around.”

Remus blinked rapidly. His mind was as loud as a roaring storm. It amplified every word that was spoken to him and caused it to whirl around in his room.

“Well maybe I should just leave,” Remus shakily got to his feet, “Because I am never going to be normal.”

His skin felt like it was on fire. He wanted the silence, he wanted the freedom, he wanted to be himself, but this place could not provide that anymore. It hadn’t provided it really for a while. It was time to move on.

“You can have the stupid city; I’m done with it anyway.”

“Re-,” Whatever Roman wanted to say was cut off by a wave of coughs.

Remus did not stay for the fit to end. He took off running. Boot covered feet hit the pavement hard. His thoughts were running just as fast.

 _“Monster.”_  
“Killer.”  
“Murderer.”

**_“I’ve always wondered what it would be like to kill my brother. I almost had the chance. Now he hates Me. Probably going to hunt me down like a rabid dog and shoot ya’. Wonder if he will skin me and wear me around like a suit. Wouldn’t that be fun?”_ **

Remus grasped clumsily to a doorway and pushed himself into the building. His knees collapsed when he found himself once again in his room in the mindscape.

Sobs racked his body at the same time as hysterical laughter tried to escape. His heart was beating at a rate that made it a steady backdrop to the choir of thoughts singing in his brain.

**_“If Roman doesn’t come, Patton will. Scold me like a child for being so, so bad. For hurting Roman when he just came to take another toy of mine from the toy box. Or maybe Logan will come. Logan to tell me about how wrong I am all the time. Wrong, Wrong, Wrong.”_ **

Remus hugged his torso tight and hit his forehead against the stone floor of his room. Every smash sent a wave of pain through his bod and with that came a wave of calm. He almost whined as the pain began to fade away. As soon as it did the thoughts came back.

_Roman laid out at his feet with his skull bashed open._

_Patton with his throat slit and a terrifying smile carved into his face._

_Logan strangled by his own tie that got stuck in a blender._

_Anxiety with his eyes ripped out. Deceit with his mouth stitched shut and a sword to the stomach._

**_Thomas dead on the street below the building he had jumped off of._ **

“No! No! No!” Remus pulled at his hair, “They hate me. They hate me. They hate me. I killed them. I killed them. I killed them.”

“ _I need pain. Need to not think. Need jump.”_

Remus pushed himself to shaky feet. His skin burned for the release of the pain and then the silence that followed.

He stumbled over his feet as he made his way into the bathroom. Blood dripped down from his forehead as he began to search the drawers. Clumsy fingers, **_fingers used to strangle his brother_** , pushed back item after item until he found it.

Roman had given it to him as a joke gift on Christmas. A razor with a note that said, ‘that mustache you are growing is a disgrace to our shared face’. He had laughed at it then and never used it. Roman would be happy to know that is was being used even if it was not the intended purpose.

This was probably the better option for it after what he had done.

The side paid no mind to the slices that cut up his fingers as he dislodged the blade from the plastic contraption on the razor. He let the plastic fall into the sink and looked around the room. The blood running from his fingers dripped onto the floor and coated the blade he held in his hand.

He considered going back into his room but found the energy of the day had faded. Instead he snuggled up into the tub.

Blood soaked into his black shirt as he tried to steady his breaths. His ears focused in on the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. The calm that had washed over him on the edge of the skyscraper’s roof settled into his bones.

Remus adjusted the blade in his bloody fingers and turned his wrist over. He could see the veins under the thin skin layer there. The metal kissed the skin delicately before he dug in.

The pain was sharp and instant. There was no sudden silence like the falling. This was a heavy agony that made tears start to fall. He bit his lip hard to keep himself silent until he felt the stream of blood falling onto his lap was heavy enough.

He tried to transfer the blade over the other hand, but his grip faltered. The razor dropped onto his lap and there he let it stay. His head was already beginning to swim. He could not tell if it was the emotional exhaustion of the blood loss hitting him hard.

Remus leaned his head back against the tiles and closed his eyes. A heavy fog had started to flow over his mind and made the orchestra of thoughts more of a muffled sound. One still got through and he let out a little giggle.

“Wonder what it is like to actually bathe in the blood of your enemies,” he mumbled before he let the darkness take him back into her loving arms.

*

*

*

Remus’ head felt like it was filled with cotton. It was somehow worse than banging one’s head on a wall or smashing his brains out on the pavement. Blood loss and the resulting regeneration made him ache in ways he had never from the fall. There was a faint ringing in his ears that made the rest of the world seem just as muffled as his thoughts.

His arms felt heavy. His whole body felt like a brick. Maybe he was a ghost now but was stuck in the body. How did the Egyptians separate the soul again? He couldn’t remember.

He didn’t even remember having something soft under his head when he passed out. Nor did he remember something slowly running a hand through his hair. If he had the energy, he would have panicked but instead he just forced his eyes open.

The light, though dim, made him groan in pain. The gentle pets on his head stopped instantly and Remus almost whined at the loss of the comfort.

“Probably all out of pity anyway,” he mumbled a thought allowed.

“-emus? Duke? Can you hear me?”

Remus blinked his eyes slowly as he tried to focus on the figure leaning over him. He saw shiny scales, yellow, and black. A delirious smile spread across his face.

“Deeeeee?”

“Oh thank Thomas,” Deceit seemed to lean down further and hugged the Duke around his upper torso. This made Remus realize he was leaning against Deceit’s lap.

It was nice. Deceit was nice. Deceit was also very comfy. Deceit was also in the bathtub with him. The realization made him giggle and his eyes started to fall close again.

A tap on the face made him blink them back open.

“Don’t fall asleep on me again, please. I know you probably cannot walk right now but I don’t need you passing out until I know why.”

Remus looked up at Deceit with hazy eyes. The figure blurred in and out before he came into focus. There was blood on Deceit’s face. Remus noticed that the side did not have his usual gloves on. Deceit was also not in his usual outfit but in one that was now stained red with blood.

His blood.

Remus’ blood was all over Deceit. Remus was kind of into that.

“Why wha’?”

Deceit’s eyebrows furrowed together. Remus did not like that look on Deceit. He liked when the side’s face was calm or those rare smiles that he tried to hide behind a hand. Not concerned Dee-Dee.

“Why would you…do you do this? What about your family? Your brother?”

Remus barked out a laugh and let his face press more into Deceit’s stomach.

“Roman won’ care no more ‘bout me. I did a bad thing. I do only bad things.”

“That isn’t true, Creativity.”

“Yes, it is. You know it is cause I only speak truths,” One of Remus’ eyes closed, and a tap made him open it again. He tried to reach up and take it but found his arm would not cooperate.

“Truths that you believe, and the actual facts do not always line up. Even if you do not think that your brother loves you, please consider that I was not the most enthusiastic person upon walking in here and finding you…you drenched in your own blood and not breathing.”

Remus gave a little giggle into Deceit’s stomach, “Aw, Snakey, you do care.”

The hand that had been petting his hair when he had woken up came back and Remus sighed happily. He could stay like this forever. With the haze of blood loss and a gentle person holding him close. ~~He could almost believe that this was real love and not pretend.~~

“They need to know about this, Remus,” Deceit’s words pulled Remus back from a moment of dosing.

Remus looked up at Deceit confused before his sluggish brain caught up to him.

_“Deceit will tell them and then they will take this away as well. No more pausing his thoughts.”_

“N-no! No, you can’t.”

Remus struggled to sit up. Any helping hand that reached to lay him back down was batted away. Dizziness almost made him puke. He wondered how Deceit would react to that. If Deceit would leave like everyone else when he did something gross or weird.

“I would not leave you for puking now lay back down.”

Remus shook his head, not even perturb for having spoken out loud. He caught the two, gloveless hands by the wrist as they tried to get him to lay back in the position they had been.

“Deceit,” the serious tone seemed to work enough to shock the side to listen, “Please, I don’t like secrets, but they can’t know. Ever.”

He slowly moved Deceit’s hands until they were crossed over the side’s mouth. Two different colored eyes looked at him with concern and slight fear. He held his hands gently over Deceit’s as he tried to get some form of agreement from those eyes.

It felt wrong to use Deceit’s function against him but at the same time, Remus could not lose another thing today. If this would be his only secret, then so be it.

“I don’t want them to know about this, so they won’t.”

He watched and waited. Watched closely as Deceit looked around in the air at invisible thoughts. Watched as the eyes slowly cast downward and the yellow one flashed gold. He let go of the hands when Deceit gave a nod.

Deceit took another second before he lowered his own hands.

“They have to know eventually, Remus,” Deceit whispers, “This is not healthy.”

“What about me is?” Remus countered with a smile. The smile quickly faded at the sad frown on the other side’s face. He gave a low sigh and leaned his head against the cold tile wall.

The duke did not fight the hands this time when they brought him back to rest in Deceit’s lap. The hand back to carding through his hair slowly.

“I will hide the secret,” and unspoken ‘as if I had a choice’ hung between them, “But you have to promise me that if you have thoughts of such actions against yourself again you will come to me. Come to me and tell me.”

“Why?”

Dee sighed, “I want to be sure you are safe.”

“But Dee, I will always be safe, sides can’t die. I’ve tried,” he yawned, “So many times. Just can’t get it to stick.”

Deceit’s hand stilled in his hair and Remus gave a small frown. He looked up at Deceit’s face, but it was hard to read. The neutral mask was once again up. Remus hoped that would mean Dee would stop talking about this.

“Please, just humor me with this?” Deceit’s voice held no emotion.

“If it makes you happy, I would give you Jupiter’s storm.”

The mask cracked a little to show a strained smile. Remus beamed. He had made someone smile. He had someone holding him. He may have lost a brother today but at least he had a friend.


	3. Overdose

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Remus has been staying over at Deceit and Anxiety's place in the subconscious mind to avoid his brother and the others. He wonders if they would even listen to his side of the story. If the others even cared enough to wonder where he went.   
> In the meantime, he is happy to just stay with his friends as long as they allow. 
> 
> TW: Suicidal/self-harm habit, sibling rift, hint to emotional neglect(?), attempted murder, keeping suicidal thoughts of others a secret, slightly unsympathetic Light Sides (from a one-sided perspective), eyeball gore, drug overdose, throw up, sickness, depression, slitting wrists (thinking about), Hollywood glamour on drug overdose, thoughts of fratricide, self-hatred, blood, snot, crying, urge to open wounds

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long wait! I got into the holiday stress at the end of November and from there I went right into finals. I did not want to play with fire while my mental state was low. To make up for the lateness, however, I made this chapter extra long! Woohoo! 
> 
> Please tell me if I need to warn about anything else. This chapter is long and I might have forgotten something. 
> 
> For this chapter I am linking https://www.thetrevorproject.org/ for the help of LGBTQA+ Suicide Prevention

** OVERDOSE **

**_Dreaming of the way it used to be_ **

_“One, two, three. One, two, three. One, two, three.”_

Remus counted every beat of the heart in his head. A metronome to a fast ballet that he could only dream to memorize. It was consistent, never wavered; always fast and never slowed. A distraction for a mind that was nearly hypnotic.

_“One, two, three. One, two, three. One, two, three.”_

Every beat meant life. Every fast bump went along with a slower breath. Blood was moving through the veins and arteries. It gave the body life. He could imagine the red liquid being pushed through the tiny veins. A river of blood that was a key factor in living. The song of heart and the life it gave held him in a trace. He wanted to just lay there for hours listening closely to every beat.

_“One, two, three. One, two, three, four, five-.”_

The steady rhythm shifted to a faster tempo as a door opened. Remus scrunched up his nose at the diversion. He wanted the steady three beat rhythm to come back. The breathing that went along with the bumps of the heart had quickened as well. The song was not as relaxing anymore.

A low chuckle came from somewhere above him.

The chest Remus had his ear pressed against rumbled as words were spoken, “Stop snickering, Deceit.”

Remus opened one eye just enough to peak through his eyelashes. He caught just the faintest glimpse of Deceit’s yellow gloves against the dark back of the couch. Remus bet that the side had a smirk on his face as he leaned over the pair.

“I am not snickering, Anxiety, I am just amused that you two are getting along so well now. Considering that when I left this morning you both were about to kill each other over the jar of peanut butter.”

The heartbeat under Remus’ ear had begun to slow back to the original pace. The perfect tempo that the dance of his mind could focus on. He let his eye close completely once more; ready to go back to counting out every beat.

“He wanted to use it for something weird,” Anxiety protested.

Remus frowned a little. A protest was at his lips, but Anxiety continued to talk.

“Why is he down here anyway? I get you said he was sleeping over, but I thought you meant for a night not…not move his room down here.”

Deceit’s voice shushed the anxious side, “Quiet, you are going to wake him up if you are so inclined to be that loud.

“Sorry,” Anxiety mumbled.

Remus listened closely to that slow rumble of the voice in the other side’s chest. He listened to the fast-paced beats that were once again too fast to relax to.

“I just don’t want the others to come down here and accuse us of kidnapping or something. Prince under-arm-stink already gets very defensive whenever you go up there to visit. Now he is here for what seems like a lot longer than a sleep over-.”

“Virgil, breathe for me,” Deceit’s hand left Remus’ hair. He would have whined at the loss if it was not for the cold fear that had pooled in his gut.

He had been down with his friends for a month now. He had not even questioned why his room had moved from next to Roman’s. He just thought it was a survival tactic to avoid the disappointment and horror he would have faced back at ~~home~~ the main hub. The thought had not even crossed his mind until now that no one had come down here to talk to him; to ask for his side of the story.

Virgil’s heart continued to beat in rapid time even as his breathing calmed down.

_“Five, six, seven, eight-.”_

Every beat encouraged his thoughts to move faster into a tide of worry. He was not sure if it was the proximity of Anxiety or his sudden awareness to the scratch of the bandages wrapped tightly around his arms. They suddenly felt constricting and yet he could not move.

“How long is he staying?” Virgil asked the question cautiously.

Time seemed to still around Remus as he waited for the answer. His mind running on bullet time as a million scenarios took over.

_Deceit laughing and saying that Remus would only be here a couple more days. That he was already tired of checking up on Remus._

_Deceit revealing the state he had found Remus in. Laughing at it and calling him pathetic. A half-wide that cannot even handle what little role he had._

_Virgil laughing along in agreement. Pushing him off with a look of disgust. How could he ever have let something so pathetic and gross lay on him?_

_Remus suddenly shut out and left in the in between the two spaces. He could never go back to Roman. He could see the fear and disgust and hatred in his brother’s eyes. The pure rage in Patton’s and the grave disappointment in Logan’s. He found now hope with his friends._

_He would be lost forever **until he finally found the edge and jumped back into the abyss. Feel down, down, down, until he dissolved into nothing. Hopefully nothing. If not, he would just lay there broken until his body healed and there would be no way back up. No one would care about him calling for help.**_

**_No one would find him until he had died from starvation a million times and was nothing but a husk of a side that still breathed. Breathing but not alive._ **

“He will stay as long as he needs to. Even if that means he wants to remain here with us in our little family permanently,” Deceit’s smooth voice crashed into the images and broke then apart. The shards scattered like glass as the train of thought rammed into a brick wall.

His breath hitched and he tried to pass it off as him just shifting in his sleep. His face was now pressed fully into Virgil’s chest. His nose was squashed at an uncomfortable angle and it was hard to breathe, but he did not care.

He wanted to hide the tear that wanted to slip out from between closed eyelids.

Virgil hissed in pain at the shift of weight, probably from how the duke’s chin jabbed in between a rib. Remus did not fight the cold hands that shifted his head to lay once again on the side. His ear once more rested right above the heart. One of those cold hands stayed rested on him and began to card through his hair.

“And the other sides? Won’t they come down to look for him eventually?”

Deceit gave a sad sigh. Remus did not like when Dee was sad. Sad meant that someone had done something wrong, probably him.

“They won’t.”

“But-.”

Deceit cut Virgil off, “They won’t. Trust me, I have been up there every day for two weeks.”

Deceit paused again. Remus could feel the gaze on his back. He forced his shoulders to relax enough, an easy task with the gentle hand moving through his hair. It was more of a struggle to not fall to sleep.

When Dee spoke again, he sounded so small and lost. Remus did not like it. It was not the usual calm and sure voice he had come to know his friend for.

“Virgil, they don’t want anything to do with him. I tried to reason with them that it was an accident, but they don’t listen. They never listen, not even when it is about one of their own. It is like they actually believe that one mistake equals complete rejection. Purity culture, I tell you, it is a corrupting force that erases simple human decency!”

Deceit’s tone shifted from broken to enraged, a hiss behind every word.

“What kind of family is that? His own brother, why, if I could have bit him then and there I WOULD HA-.”

“Deceit, calm down,” Virgil’s low whisper ended the shout before it could reach full volume, “It will be okay, Kidlet, you did your best. Can’t cure stupid, but we can help a friend out.”

The couch dipped by Remus and Virgil’s feet.

“So you do think of him as a friend?” Deceit’s voice teased.

“Shut up, you are at fault for bringing in lovable strays.”

Remus felt something wet drip down his nose and onto the jacket below him. The conversation above him started to muffle out like his head was underwater. With every crash of a wave came a replay of the words Deceit had said. His heart began to pick up speed to match the rapid heartrate of Virgil.

They didn’t want him.

His brother didn’t want him.

_Why would they ever want me?_

He already assumed that they did not want him, just from the lack of contact, but it was something different about hearing it said aloud.

Remus’ bottom lip trembled, and he bit it hard to try and keep the emotions in. Virgil would feel it first before he made a sound and then Deceit would become alarmed. He did not want them to know he was awake this whole time. It would make Virgil feel awful for talking about him and Deceit would try and sugar coat everything he just had stated.

Not that it really mattered, Remus was not supposed to feel bad about himself in the first place. That was not his job. His job was to take everything Thomas did not want to think about and keep it for himself. Let Roman give him all the good thoughts while he festered in the dark imaginations that made everyone scared to even talk to him.

He was supposed to revel in the disgusting, dark, and gritty. He loved the painted walls of blood and the sound of brains being smashed open. He was sick and loved it.

He loved it. He loved it. That is what everyone told him, and it had to be true.

That had to be why all he could see at night were Roman’s eyes as they stared up at him in fear as his own hands began to strangle the life out of the brother, he held so dear. Had to be why the memory warped itself so Roman lay pale and lifeless at his feet. **Had to be why the world around the memory became a blood red so dark it was almost black as the lifeless corpse of his twin rose up and stabbed him over and over and over again. A Laugh echoed around the image as he fell to his knees.**

But then why did he wake up every night with a scream and tears running down his face? Why did that image make him want to grovel to his twin’s feet for forgiveness? He had not meant to harm his brother. The last thing he ever wanted to do was kill his twin, a little rough housing sure, but never seriously injure. How the other sides were convinced that he wanted to do such a thing was beyond him.

The thought and the action had been disconnected. Until now, that is.

 ** _“Why can’t you be normal?”_** Roman’s question became the main chorus to the pounding fear that washed over him.

He didn’t know. He didn’t know why he couldn’t be so loving like Patton, or smart like Logan, or as wondrous as Roman. He didn’t know. He wanted to be, but all his attempts only blew up in his face. All his attempts were met with annoyed glances and exasperated sighs.

A sob bubbled out. Remus bit his lip harder as the bullet time of thoughts ended. He hoped beyond hope the other sides around him did not hear the noise.

“Remus?”

No luck.

He did not trust himself to say anything. He felt the familiar taste of iron on his tongue as he bit a little harder into his lip to stop another sob. The pain from the bite send a shiver down his spine. **The crack of his skull as he hit the earth. The sharp sting of a knife as he cut deep into his wrist. Oh how the pain brought such sweet bliss.**

He wanted to scratch as his bandages and dig into the healing wounds. He wanted to bite completely through his bottom lip and let his teeth connect through the torn skin. He wanted the pain to bring about the eventual silence and bliss that he craved so dearly.

A hysteric laugh bubbled out from between the bloody lips. They mixed with the tears in a terrifying image that was only seen by the front of Virgil’s jacket.

He did not fight as the body he laid on moved to sit them up. Remus merely held on tightly with a grip that would most likely bruise as more laughter broke forth as tears dragged down his face. He felt a weight of another body settle onto his back; now hugged from both sides.

It was a secure pressure that he wished was tighter. He wanted them to squeeze until his ribs cracked. He wanted them both to crush him. **Make his eyes pop out of his skull and go flying across the room.**

Another laugh came out. Some snot, running from his nose, mixed with the tears and slid into his mouth. He only laughed and cried harder.

He was a mess. No wonder the other sides did not want him anymore. He was not supposed to be affected by what others thought of him and yet here he was bawling like a baby.

“Remus, can you hear me?” Deceit whispered close to Remus’ ear. He felt the cool touch of scales on his left cheek. Cold skin touched his right as Virgil settled his chin onto that shoulder.

Remus sniffled again as he tried to stop the wave of woe that wanted to drown him.

“They really hate me huh?” He giggle between the words even though he felt his heart had begun to break.

Remus forced his eyes to open. He took in the grey and black of Virgil’s hoodie before he shifted his head enough to see the shine of Deceit’s scales, the worried look in the yellow eye, and the frown that was pulled on his friend’s face.

“No, no, Duke, they are just a little confused and angry. They only have one side of the story,” Deceit’s words were like honey. Too sweet to swallow and made him want to gag.

He laughed and pushed off Virgil a little. Anxiety did not let go of his hug and kept him firmly in his lap. A not bubble popped from one of Remus’ nostrils but neither of them backed away like he was used to when he sob-laughed.

“You don’t need to lie, Dee-Dee,” Remus rubbed at his face to try and get the tears to dry themselves up, “They never want to hear my side. Haven’t wanted to hear what I have to say since…since…since I got too graphic while telling Patton about a nightmare. You are giving them too much credit and care.”

He pathetic giggle escaped him as he hung his head to hide the mess he had become just from this news. He wanted to escape the grasp and run to his room, but Virgil held firm. Denied his new favorite activity because of the concern of two sides he really wanted to believe cared for him.

He wanted to run so badly, run and find a way back to the void where he could pretend that everything was fine. Let the pain take him to a place he knew he could find relief. Find bliss.

But the tight grip around his waist and the expression of pity on Deceit’s face blocked him from his goal.

Oh how Remus hated pity. Pity was a fickle thing that went away once someone became too much of a burden. When pain became too routine for others to care about.

Pity was not needed when he was fine. Completely fine; he was a mess and he loved it. He was deranged and embraced it. That is what he had been told so it must be true.

“Remus-.”

“I’m fine, Dee,” Remus tried to will the tears to stop moving. The laughter continued to bubble up and out like a terrible burp, “I’m super fine. I finally know what they all think of me and I don’t care. They don’t so why should I? In fact I never really cared, they were right about that.”

“Remus,” Deceit tried again but Remus was not listening.

The duke sniffled to try and stop another glob of snot from mixing with the blood and tears on his face, “Bet they have been waiting for me to finally snap. Wanted an excuse for a long time to kick you out. Glad I could give them something that made them happy instead of terrified, ya’ know?”

“Screw them!” The shout by his ear made the Duke jump and fall silent.

Virgil moved his head off the creative side’s shoulder and shifted the position, so Remus now looked directly at him. Remus did not want to look into the storm that had appeared in Virgil’s eyes but found he could not look away. He was scared and fascinated.

What had he said that made usually quiet Anxiety so upset?

“If they don’t want you, then we’ll take you. Jokes on them for throwing you away.”

Remus was confused.

“But I’m trash and you throw away trash,” Remus licked at the blood on his lower lip in thought, “You even said I was trash.”

“Yeah, you are trash,” Virgil ignored the hiss that Deceit gave him, “But one man's trash is another man’s treasure. You are trash Deceit found and thought was treasure. And God dammit you are going to be treasured down here!”

The tears began to flow faster again. Remus wanted to protest to it all but there was something lovely about being called trash in such a nice way. Plus, Virgil had cussed for him, and that really made his heart bloom with warmth. He wanted to blubber like a bubble blowing baby all over again.

“But-.”

“He is telling the truth,” Deceit said before Remus could brush it off, “Up there they may think of you as trash but down here, you are worth something. Mistakes don’t make you worthless, no matter how bad.”

Deceit shifted in his embrace so only one arm was wrapped around the pair. The other now rested over Remus’ right arm and a gloved hand gently hovered over his wrist. The happiness turned cold as he felt the scratch of the bandages once more under the gentle hand. He pulled back like Deceit had burned him and hid his arms between Virgil’s and his bodies.

He let his head go back to being cradled under Virgil’s chin.

“I want everything to go back to how it was,” he whispered, “I didn’t mean to hurt him.”

“I know,” Deceit said, “and maybe one day you can tell him that in person.”

Silence settled over the trio as Remus got the last of the emotions out of his system. The tears began to dry on his face, and he felt a heavy exhaustion settle into his bones. His bottom lip pulsed in a dull pain that gave him no relief but was more of an annoyance.

Too soon did Virgil’s arms slowly began to loosen. Remus wanted nothing more than to stay sandwiched between the two other sides, but he forced the thought to stay in his mind. He would not force Anxiety to continue the hug. He had already forced the anxious side to be his pillow. This was probably too much physical stimulation.

Remus just allowed himself to be maneuvered onto the couch cushions so that Virgil could stand up. He looked up at the side with worry before he let his body sink into soft fabric of the couch.

“I’ll get a rag for you to clean up. That bite looks pretty nasty,” Virgil gave a shaky smile and left the room.

“Are you really okay?” Deceit had waited until Virgil’s footsteps were a distant sound before he asked.

Remus knew the truth behind the question. It did not simply refer to the breakdown he had displayed in front of his new roomies. He became hyperaware of the covered wound on his wrist. How the cut on his called for him to try once more, for him to widen the gap **and let the river of red wash away his sorrow and pain**.

Remus glanced at Deceit before he looked away. He let his body slide so that his head no rested on the armrest of the couch. He hugged his own chest tightly.

“I’m actually tired now, if that is what you mean, Dee-Dums,” he did his best to get the smile to reach his eyes.

“No, I mean, alright that is understandable. But what I want to know, Remus, are you…” Deceit trailed off before he finished the sentence.

Remus moved his attention back to his friend when the sentence died. He watched nervous eyes glance to the hidden bandages and then away and then back once more.

The duke sighed through his nose and picked at a lose thread on his sweatpants.

“I am not going to slice my wrist up again, if that is what you are want to hear.”

 _“Wasn’t a fun method anyway,”_ he thought bitterly.

“You don’t need to sound so bitter about me being concerned about you,” Deceit leaned against the Duke’s side, “You swore me to secrecy over this, but it doesn’t mean I can’t talk about it to you. Especially after a break down like that.”

Hot anger overtook the cold numbness that he had started to slip into. Would this happen after every time he expressed emotions over something like this? Would he now constantly have Deceit questioning what he wanted to do?

“So I can’t have breakdowns after I found out my brother actually hates my guts?” He felt the after-crying headache begin to form. He had already spilled enough emotion in front of them, he did not know why Deceit wanted him to spill more.

“No, that is not what I meant at all. I am just concerned about you, Remus.”

Remus scrubbed at his eyes with the heel of his hands. Colors exploded behind his eyelids at every rough push. The headache started to grow more intense.

“I don’t need pity.”

“It isn’t pity,” he could tell Deceit had rolled his eyes, “it is genuine care. I care about you. Virgil cares about you and Roman does to somewhere in that egotistical heart of his. He is just mad and confused right now.”

Remus scoffed but could not think of a clever retort. The colors behind his eyes swirled in time with the pain in his skull. It exploded like a bomb as glove covered hands made him stop the abuse. He cringed at the dull light of the living room as he opened his eyes.

He did not look at the side next to him.

“I don’t always lie, Remus. Things are scary now, but I want to help you through it with…better coping methods.”

“Good thing I like scary and the taboo, so I don’t need help,” Remus pushed out of the loose hold and got to his feet.

“R-.”

“I’m fine, Deceit, I’m not going to do anything dumb. I just have a headache and want to be alone.”

He heard the footsteps before Deceit did. The side’s jaw went shut with a click as Anxiety turned the corner back into the living area. It felt cruel to use the secret against a friend but when did he ever care about what was cruel and what was not?

Virgil paused in the doorway with a rag in hand, “Um, everything okay in here?”

“I’m just tired,” Remus gave a weak smile to his … friend? The thought made his smile more genuine, “I was going to take a nap.”

Remus took the rag from Virgil’s hands before it could be offered. The cold cloth felt nice on his warm skin as he wiped away the snot and blood. He glanced down at the putrid painting it created. Red coppery streaks mixed with yellow snot.

Wonderful. _Terrible._

“Oh, alright, I’ll come get you for dinner?”

Remus looked at Virgil and let his hands fold away the cloth. A weary smile on his face so to not scare his newest friend further.

“Nah, I’ll be fine. Probably going to take a walk in the imagination and kill a few goblins or unicorns to clear my head.”

Virgil glanced behind Remus to what the duke could only guess was an eye conversation with Deceit. He was used to this. Eye conversations between sides when around him where normal especially with Patton and Roman involved.

“See you guys when I get back. Don’t do anything I would do,” Remus did not stay to find out the conclusion of this eye conversation.

He just waved his gross rag like a handkerchief and wandered into the hall and towards his bedroom. The familiar ornate doorway was like the pearly gates to Heaven. His footsteps picked up pace. He would not tempt fate and see if the other two would try and make him stay out with them longer.

The doors opened with a dramatic groan and shut behind him with a bang. His skull rattled in pain at the noise but that did not stop the peace that washed over him as the lock clunked into place.

Remus lent his head back against the door and let out a loud breath through his nose. His eyes slipped closed as he drank in the musty smell of his room.

**_“Wonder what would happen if I finished the deed? How much would they hate me then?”_ **

Remus’ eyes snapped open and he shook his head violently. The pain that sparked was like tiny hammers that banged all over his inner skull. He lived for it. He loved it.

It chased the thought away and grounded him here.

He took a few shaky breaths as his vision wavered. The world seemed to wobble as he took a step towards the bed.

A bone lay on the floor and he pushed it out of the way with his barefoot. A pile of clothes was crumpled by the wall.

He heard his own heartbeat in his ears.

_One, two, three. One, two, three._

He just wanted a nap. A true moment of silence that did not give him nightmares or dreams or anything in between.

Remus wanted to be shocked when he found himself in the bathroom instead of the bed. His eyes looked to the tub that was still stained slightly red. The razors were gone from the room now, Deceit had made sure of that, not that Remus wanted to try that method ever again.

That was a terrible experiment. No fun at all.

His eyes lazily moved to a door frame on the other side. A wall was were a door should have been. His heart hurt.

_One, two, three. One, two, three._

**Glassy eyes showed no emotion as the sword pierced Remus’ body over and over again. Roman’s emotionless face was not moved by the deranged cackle that escaped his victim.**

Remus’ hands opened up the cabinet behind the mirror. He picked up a bottle of painkillers to try and nullify the headache. He also grabbed something that would help him sleep.

He grabbed a glass he kept in the bathroom for late night water and closed the cabinet once more.

His reflection stared back. Eyes rimmed with red and puffy from the tears that had escaped. A snot trail that he had missed had begun to dry on the mustache. The gash just below his bottom lip had begun to swell an angry red.

Remus’ reflection stared back at him blankly. He looked away to turn the facet off and pick up the glass.

Thomas has watched a few cheesy horror movies back in high school with some friends. They were terrible and did not actually scare him. Remus called them comedies and Roman actually agreed with him on that. When they were teens, they would spend hours in their shared room at the time watching and yelling at the screen. Writing the plots to make them actually make sense.

In one movie a girl, played by an actress that was obviously not teenager, wanted to escape life by downing a whole bottle of pills. At the time, Remus thought her death was boring. No blood or pain, just a slow dramatic fall as she peacefully slipped away. Roman was crying during the scene because the reason she poisoned herself was because her love had died.

Now, as he stared down at the bottles, he wondered with Hollywood had got it right.

The bottles were open before he even gave it another thought. The sound of pills hitting the sink were muffled behind the sound of his heartbeat.

_One, two, three. One, two, three._

The pills did not go down smoothly. They poked at his throat and tried to come back up. He had to chug the water just to force them down. It felt like his body wanted to fight what he was about to do. Remus just chalked it up to the quantity.

He was hyper-aware of the tiny capsules as they moved down his throat and landed in his stomach. How they poked all the wrong angles and made his stomach church. He downed the last of the water and took a long breath.

He looked back up at himself in the mirror. He did not look that different from a few minutes before. He did not feel different either, just the same numbness and headache that came from a hard cry. His stomach churned with anticipation for something yet to come.

He hoped it would be sleep. He really wanted just one night without a nightmare.

He gave a sigh and pushed away from the counter. The cold tile of the bathroom gave way to the carpet of his bedroom. He felt a forgotten chip crunch between his toes. He paused a moment to wipe the bottom of his foot against his leg.

He flopped onto the bed like a beached whale. A small grunt of discomfort came from that as he laid on the musty sheets. It took more effort than expected to pull himself fully onto the bed and under the blankets. His limbs had started to feel like they were filled with concrete.

The loud chorus of thoughts began to dull behind exhaustion. He was not sure if that was from the drugs or the amount of emotional baggage he had released earlier. He just let his body slot itself between the sheets. His eyes felt too heavy to give him a chance to disrobe into a more comfortable resting state.

He curled up on his side and let himself start to drift off.

Even with his eyes closed it felt like the world had begun to tilt around him. He did not know how long he had successfully gotten any sleep. He distantly remembered someone talking outside his room. He thought it was Roman but that was probably wishful thinking.

Other moments such as that flitted about his awareness. They mixed with his dreams and thoughts in a kaleidoscope of insanity.

Then it all burst with a pain in his gut.

He frowned and curled his knees up to his chest as the darkness of sleep tried to give into an image of intense pain. It felt simply like he had eaten too many sweets. He could easily sleep it off.

Then it stabbed again, and his eyes flew open.

Remus felt hot. He felt flushed. He knew something was about to happen, but he was not sure on which end. He wanted to get up, but the concrete feeling of his limbs had changed into deep paralysis. Like his limbs were not even there anymore.

A small whimper escaped his lips as he felt the bile being to move up his throat. The acid burned his tongue as his body tried to reject the amount of pills he had swallowed. All Remus could manage to do was lean over the side of the bed and let it all fall to the floor. Some splashed back up and hit his face.

This was nothing like the movies.

His tongue tasted like rotten food. Salt tears mixed with it as another wave of pain and puke came up. He just wanted to sleep. Hide away from the physical and mental pain that he was in.

**Should have just jumped. Or slit my wrists vertically. Or jumped in a rushing river.**

The ideas continued to swirl as he panted for breath. His chest felt so tight. His lungs could not seem to get enough oxygen no matter how much he struggled. Remus felt like he was under water, deep in the ocean at a pressure that would crush a human skull.

A small whimper escaped him as another round of bile tried to rise up but there was nothing left in his stomach. Harsh dry heaves tried and failed to bring something up. Black dots began to dance in his vision as the pain pushed through his body.

Someone knocked on his door. He did not have the energy to tell them to go away, all of it was spent on trying to breathe.

The hot flush of his body slowly began to turn to a cold.

He let his eyes close even as another round of sickness tried to push but his body did not have the energy to try and answer to the call. The sweet promise of silence and peace called to him from the darkness of the void. A familiar embrace that he had come to love over the years.

Distantly he heard someone call his name.

Then everything went black.

*

*

*

Remus tasted rot. It was sour, bitter, and salty all at once. It was like someone had put a dead frog in his mouth, again. That had not been a very fun dare.

The taste matched the smell that he woke up to. It was just as sour and somehow ten times worse.

His head felt like someone had liquefied his brain and pulled it out through his nose. A mummy surrounded by sour rot.

 _“Now that would be a burial,”_ his thought sounded far away as if he was talking into a tunnel.

His eyes opened to a room so dark he could believe that he was buried alive.

_“Mmmm, now there is an idea. Dirt is so much more tangible then oxygen.”_

Remus gave a weak smile and blinked his eyes slowly to adjust to the darkness around him. The smell of rot came from just next to the bed. A fuzzy pile of who-knows-what rotted like a disgusting rug on his carpet.

He moved his tongue and felt fuzz on his tongue. The thought did not send as much disgust through him as a normal person would have. Instead he tried to will some salvia to try and help him clear his mouth. The effort only made some weak foam to match the dryness of his throat.

Remus gave a weak sigh through his nose. He needed water, desperately, but he could not find the energy to try and get up.

Instead he used up his energy to roll over onto the opposite side and let his eyes close. The darkness once again reclaimed him.

*

*

*

The next time Remus Sanders became aware he found it easier to breathe. He also found the smell of decay had become more pungent. His nose wrinkled up in disgust as he tried to avoid the smell in his pillow. The musty smell of the old pillowcase was much better then the smell of rotting vomit.

He could have allowed himself to fall back to sleep. He almost did.

“Glad to see you are awake.”

A cold shiver ran down the duke’s spine at the voice. Shame started to grow from it. He did not want to move his face to confirm who was in his room.

“I just need to know one thing, then I will go get you some water and leave you be.”

Deceit’s voice was cold. A disappointed tone that Remus did not want to hear ever again.

“When did you do it?”

Remus swallowed the dry foam that had once again begun to form in his mouth. He wanted to run but his limbs still felt too heavy. Slowly, he moved his head to peak up at his room.

Deceit sat on a chair next to the bed. A book was on the nightstand and he had that impassive mask up once more. The duke opened his mouth to speak but fell into a round of coughs. The sound seemed to break Deceit’s uncaring façade and he moved over to his friend’s side and patted the man’s back gently.

“Don’t strain yourself if you can’t talk on my account,” Deceit said gently. Too gently for Remus’ liking, it sounded just like the pity he hated.

“I wish you had told me about the urge, Remus. I don’t like finding you dead and I am sure you don’t like dying as much as you have convinced yourself that you do.”

Remus leaned into the touch as the coughing wave started to eb away. His eyes moved from the wall to the doorway that he could see had bene forced open. If he was not so tired and drained, he would have been a little miffed that Deceit had broke into his room.

“I’ll get you that water and clean up in here,” Deceit said softly, “Then I’ll let you rest, but I will want an answer eventually.”

Remus expected Deceit to get up immediately. To leave him to wallow in the stench of his mistakes alone. Instead the side pulled him close and gave a gentle hug.

“I don’t know how long you think it has been, but you were gone for three weeks, Remus. I was so scared that you were never going to come back. That it actually took.”

Remus wanted to say something, but his throat burned. Any attempt to talk came back as rough coughs that made tears spring up in his eyes.

“Sorry, I’ll get that water now,” Deceit let go and Remus had never felt so conflicted.

A moment ago he had wanted Deceit to leave him alone. Now he longed for that hug to come back and keep that secure feeling.

“I’ll be right back.”

Remus was gently rested against the headboard with a few pillows to cushion his back. He watched as Deceit once again but up his mask to hide the true worry that was on it. He could only cough into his hand as the other side left him in his rotting, musty room.

Deceit closed the door only to a crack so some of the hall light stayed in. A reassurance or a point to show that it was still unlocked.

“Ah, Virgil, I was not expecting you to be out here,” Deceit’s voice came from behind the door, “Are you alright?”

“Is he okay? You were in there for awhile and…and when I went in there, he looked…”

“He is quiet alright. Just overexerted himself and came back with a fever,” Deceit lied smoothly, “Did not want to tell us and ended up getting much worse. He should be better in a couple of days now that we know. I do have to clean up the mess and get him some water.”

Remus felt guilt swirl in his gut. He did not mean to make Virgil worry. He had just wanted to sleep away the pain.

“Should I make him some soup?” Virgil asked.

“Simple broth, if you will, no cream. Upsets his stomach and he already has lost a lot of food,” Deceit answered.

Two sets of footsteps moved away from the room and left Remus alone with his thoughts. They still moved sluggishly as his brain and body tried to stitch itself back together, but one thing was clear.

He felt loved. He felt sorry. He felt happy.

A weak smile was on his face when Virgil and Deceit came into the room. He took the offered glass with a look he hoped showed his gratefulness. The cold water soothed the burned throat.

Virgil lent against his side with a bowl of chicken broth.

“You scare me like that again and I will throw you out a window.”

Remus gave a small laugh at the threat and hid his face into the Virgil’s shoulder. He could only give a nod to show that he understood.

Mentally he crossed off ‘Overdose’ on his list of methods. It, along with cutting, was not a way he would repeat any time soon. It was more pain than it was worth even if it gave him wonderful moments like this.


	4. Beheaded

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Three years have passed and Remus has adjusted to his life in the subconscious. Still he cannot avoid everything that connects him to his twin even though he wants to. So when he makes a promise to try and talk to Roman, he tried to get his brother's attention via a prank. All he needs is Virgil's help
> 
> TW: beheading, blood, sewing wounds, dirty clothes, brotherly tension, bullet mention, accidental death, dark thoughts, self doubt, self hatred

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this is late again. Holidays are wild for me and I lose track of time. 
> 
> Also sorry this is short compared to the last chapter. I might come back and make it longer but I have held onto it a couple days and just cannot think how to add onto it. 
> 
> Happy New Year!

** Beheaded  
_I didn’t mean to hurt anyone_ **

In the twenty-four years of life, given if you took the time he had spent as one side, he had never seen something more beautiful in his life. The metal shined brightly in the dim torchlight. The polish on the wood gave off a wonderful gleam. It felt like a terrible shame for something so amazing to be kept down in the dark away from public eye.

He reached out a hand and gently traced the edge of the guillotine’s blade. The duke pulled away fast as it cut through the pad of his finger and blood immediately began to rise up. He stuck the finger in his mouth and savored the iron taste.

What a beautiful device of death he head created years ago. It seemed a shame it had never been used.

“I should have known you would be down here.”

Remus jumped as his private thoughts were cut by the sound of a voice. The finger in his mouth dropped as he turned to face them, his back straight to give the air of the royalty he was supposed to be while in the imagination. The posture quickly disappeared seeing who is was.

“Oh, hi Arthur.”

“Is that all I get?” The man’s face pulled up in a smile and caused a twinkle in his eyes.

Arthur had gained age over the years, being the first figment did cause some age. When the split had occurred Arthur somehow ended up becoming the regent of the imagination as the twins adjusted to their new life. As time passed, it seemed natural for him to be king regent while the royal twins did as they pleased.

“Just didn’t expect you down here. Thought you would be talking to Prince Rotten about recent building or whatever.”

Arthur now stood beside him and looked at object that had Remus’ attention completely. His hands rested behind his back while Remus’ bleeding finger once again entered his mouth.

“I had expected both of you to attend,” Arthur said. There was no accusation in the words, but shame still bubbled in the duke’s stomach, “It is both of you who should rightfully inherit the throne.”

Remus looked at his reflection in the blade, “I’m not king material. Thought I would leave it up to him.”

Arthur’s reflection glanced at him and then back at the blade that stood in front of them, “I think you do not give yourself much credit, Remus, you are just as much of a prince as your brother.”

Remus would have laughed if he didn’t know that Arthur was being serious. The stubborn aspect of Arthur had never been in the original design, yet it had grown and stuck like a tumor. On top of that stubborn tumor came the next one that made him have unwavering belief in the twins.

Still the duke rolled his eyes.

“I am being serious.”

“You are always serious and blind if you think we could ever get along.”

It had been three years since the accident. Since then he could count on one hand how many times he had talked to his brother. Each time had been him trying and Roman ignoring or brushing him off. One time he had just went into Roman’s room to look for a shirt he forgot, and it ended up with them having a sword fight.

“You once did.”

“Yeah, well, those days are gone,” anger bubbled up to hide the sadness that wanted to settle, “Now I get to play evil twin brother like some cheesy cartoon show or over used plot line. Should have seen it coming.”

He laughed and moved so he stood with his back to the weapon and facing Arthur.

The dungeon, his dungeon, was filled with torture devices from all eras of history. It was a museum to the terrible reality of humanity. How much humans hurt other humans without the intention of every bringing them out of their misery. All his toys shoved away into the basement to be hidden from the fairy-tale that Roman wanted to believe the world was.

“Look around us, I made all this. I wanted all this! Where Roman sees death I see fun. I’ve always been bad. I’m literally his perfect adversary.”

Rough hands gently lowered his arms and he felt himself pulled into a hug.

“I wish you would tell me what had occurred to make you think such thing, son. You are not bad, or evil, or a villain for not being your brother. That is what makes you so wonderful.”

Arthur moved back and carefully cradled Remus’ face.

“Both of you are amazing individuals. Each special and wonderful in your own ways that I would not change for a second. Just because you like the more macabre has no part in defining what kind of ruler you will be. Nor does it fully showcase who you are inside.”

Remus looked away from the honest face. As much as his body screamed for him to lean into the touch he pulled back. The wood of the guillotine pressed into his spine.

“I’m not a good person, Arthur, and I would not be a good ruler,” he looked at his hands, “I can’t even be a good brother.”

Arthur sighed, “I wish you both would tell me what occurred to cause this rift. What made you think this way and cause you to hide the light I once saw.”

 _“I almost killed him,”_ Remus wanted to scream.

 _“I have killed myself millions of times,”_ he felt try to escape.

He wanted to spill everything but, for once, he kept words in. He force a smile onto his face and pretended that the kind and concerned words were not stab wounds to the soul.

“I’m fine. We’re fine, but if it means a lot to you, I’ll try once more to get his attention.”

“And I will do my best to convince him to at least hear you out when you do.”

Arthur patted the duke’s shoulder before he left the dungeon. The cold of the room seemed to seep further into Remus’ bones once he knew he was truly alone. It caused the smile to fall as he sat next to his machine of death.

Now he had to try and talk to Roman again. Actually talk instead of just pop out and laugh with Virgil after a silly prank had occurred. The looks of distress and horror on Patton and Roman’s faces were always a great way to spend a day with a friend.

At the thought of a prank he looked at his creation. An idea began to turn, and a wide grin began to form on his face as it mixed with a new ‘what if question.’

With a bounce he got to his feet. A wave of his hand changed his clothes from the explosion of disaster, as Virgil called it, to a simple shirt and jean combo. He pushed up the head restraint and did not think twice before he let it lock him into position.

A figure appeared next to the guillotine. A shadow that seemed to suck in the light around it and was vaguely in the shape of a person. A bucket was placed under his head.

“Wonder if this is as fast as everyone says,” he told the shadow, but it did not respond. Instead it moved around the contraption. An arm moved and readied to release the weighted blade.

Remus closed his eyes and pushed his creative energy into one thought. He had to make sure this worked, after all, he promised Arthur that he would get his brother’s attention. He couldn’t do that if he was just a lifeless body in the dungeons of his own castle.

With a clink the weighted blade was released and fell down onto the trapped royal. It cut through the bone, tissue, and muscle as if it was warmed butter.

The world aroun Remus went black before his head hit the basket even as his snapped open and moved rapidly around from the sudden disconnect. The shadow figure that had released the blade disappeared. The dungeons went quiet only to be broken by a deranged laugh that came from inside the bucket.

*

*

*

The dark halls of the subconscious mind of one Thomas Sanders were quiet. The dim lighting worked to accentuate the red drops that painted the floor like rose petals. Each delicate drop shone like a ruby in the dim light as it created a trail behind a stumbling form. The beautiful color painted his hands and the object he held close to his chest.

The form stopped in front of a door with a large sign hung on the front reading ‘KEEP OUT’ and under it was a small paper taped to it that read ‘that means you Duke.’

The person ignored it. A red painted hand stained the silver knob so the door could be thrown open harshly. The wood banged against the wall at the force as the person stepped inside. The room’s occupant screamed.

He only screamed louder when the headless form of one Duke Remus Sanders stepped into the room.

“Virgil! I need your help with something!”

A demented grin stretched on the disembodied head’s face as the body moved further into the room. The blood drip path followed the stumbling steps and painted the purple and grey rugs. He did his best to get the walking corpse to head in a straight line for the bed that Anxiety had fallen off of.

“Why are you holding your head!?!”

Remus glanced up at the headless neck and then back down at his friend on the floor.

“Do you want to long version or the short version?”

“How are you even talking?” Virgil asked instead as he tried to move away from the headless side.

Remus’ head hummed as the hands that held him clumsily placed him on Virgil’s nightstand. He was balanced on the neck stomp that had once attached himself to his body properly.

“I’ll take that as wanting the short version,” he rolled his eyes, “So awhile back, Logan had gone one this whole talk about how things I say can’t actually hurt you if you don’t believe them, or something like that, so since Thomas was watching a history documentary on the French Revolution, I got a-thinkin’.”

Remus stopped as his eyes spied some forgotten skittles on the nightstand. He tried to pick up a green one with just his lips. A new mission for this foggy brain; it took a lot of energy to keep life in a headless body.

A paper ball hit the head and made him once more focus on what he was saying.

“Yeah, so, I didn’t feel like dying from beheading, today at least,” he giggled at his own little joke, “But I wanted to see if I could become a headless horseman. So I finally got to play with that guillotine I summoned years ago to stop a goblin rebellion. Only after I was in two did I remember I lost my horse two years ago on a drunken stint with a satyr.”

The body clapped his hands as the head smiled. He was pretty proud of himself for getting through that explanation without too much of a distraction.

“You chopped your own head off?” Virgil asked slowly.

“If I could nod, I would, but I don’t have much neck muscle right now,” Remus laughed.

Virgil cringed and a green tint coated his cheeks. The Duke wondered how his friend could be so distraught over this. He had come back covered in a variety of fluids before and never has Virgil looked as grossed out and disturbed as he did now.

 _“It isn’t even a messy beheading,”_ he thought, “ ** _There could be nerves and veins and chunks of flesh holding on. It could have been a dull axe slamming hard into the back of my neck.”_**

Oh how pretty a picture that painted.

“Do you want me to…fix this somehow?” Virgil’s voice broke the swirling thoughts in Remus’ mind.

Remus looked at his friend confused before a wide smile appeared as he remembered why he came in here, “Oh no, if you did that, we could not go through with my new prank idea. I want you to sneak up to the other’s common area and put my head in one of the losers’ stockings!”

Remus could imagine it now. Christmas morning, everyone would want wonderful candies and presents. He would go as still as he could and then burst out laughing as he is dropped to the ground in fear. **Maybe, if he is lucky, someone will kick his head into the fire. Or maybe he could bite someone’s ankle like a zombie head. Or-.**

“I’m not doing that.”

“Record scratch?” Remus’ thoughts halted suddenly, “Why not? This is, like, the ultimate prank!”

“No a prank is putting a bucket up in a doorway and getting someone covered in slime. Or switching the cereal bags so the box chosen is not the correct one. What you are talking about is mentally scarring and will get us caught. It’s gross and wrong.”

The head of the Duke sucked in a breath at the words and a frown painted the once excited face.

 _“Why would you draw something like that it is all gross and wrong,”_ a memory whispered.

Remus bit the inside of his cheek hard to chase it away. Virgil did not mean that, he had to tell himself, Virgil was just in a mood. All he had to do was get Virge to smile and joke around with him. Then he could give in and help him prank his brother and his stupid friends.

“Boo! Come on, you know we can do so better than the slime prank. You said so yourself,” he wiggled his eyebrows, “Just think about the shrill scream that my brother will make and the hysterics that Patton will be thrown into. Not sure Logan will react greatly, probably will just want to experiment on me the weirdo.”

“I am not going to take part in terrifying them.”

“But isn’t that, like, your whole job?” Remus’ body twirled a wrist to emphasize the point, “Plus scaring them is fun. We always have a laugh because of it.”

“Maybe I don’t want it to be my job anymore.”

Remus’ hand fell to his side as the head at his friend confused, “What do you mean?”

Virgil ran a hand through his hair, “I don’t know. I am just not that interested in pranking them anymore. They already hate us so why make it worse?”

The headless duke narrowed his eyes at the other, “Did Deceit talk to you? You know his self-preservation shit can get to you if he talks too much about hiding.”

“No Dee didn’t talk to me, even if he did, he would not be too happy with what I am thinking.”

“You are being very vague there, Vee-Bee, thinking about what?”

Virgil looked directly at the head and then away, “It’s nothing. You wouldn’t get it.”

Remus’ body moved around Virgil and picked up the head. He tucked himself under his arm and threw and arm around his friend’s shoulders.

“You don’t got to be scared to talk to me, ya’ know, that right? Me and Dee are here for you as much as you are here for us. I may not get what is scaring you, Virgil, but I can try my best.”

“Please don’t touch me.”

The duke moved the arm off, “I do mean it.”

Virgil glanced at the body and head at his side and then down at the floor. His bottom lip was worried between his teeth. Remus felt his own anxiety begin to spike as he stood close to Anxiety and deep inside the hub for Thomas’ anxious thoughts.

**_“What if he wants to throw me out? What if this was too far? He is probably going to throw me out look at all the blood everywhere. He hated the headless prank, and this is the last straw. They have just been tolerating me anyway.”_ **

“I don’t want to do this prank, that is all you need to know right now so can you please put your head back on?”

The foggy feeling had gotten worse as he sat in the room with his friend. He looked up at where hie head should be and spoke slowly, “I don’t really know how.”

“You cut your own head off and don’t even know how to fix this? Why?”

Remus’ eyes widened, “I just acted without thinking. Oh man, what if this is my life now? I am just a headless duke. Constantly dizzy and bleeding out. **What happens if I lose my head literally? Would I only be able to stare up at a dusty corner but never know where I am. Screaming for help that no one cares to he-** whoa!”

Remus tumbled to the floor as he appeared in the living room. The grip on his head loosened and it went tumbling out into the room. Blood smeared on the dark wood as well as some black eyeshadow that had begun to mix with Remus’ purple.

“Shouldn’t have let you stay in there too long,” Virgil’s voice said from next to his body. Cold hands picked him up and he was carried back to his body.

He head was set on the neck gently.

“Hold that there.” 

Remus’ hands moved without much thought as he held his head in place. He was confused. His mind was still in a buzz from the effect of Virgil’s room and his haze from the blood loss. His eyes widened a little when Virgil made a needle and thread appear out of the air.

“I don’t know if this will work, but if it does, you can’t do this again okay?”

“Okay,” Remus glanced at the needle as it moved closer, “What if you sewed my head on backwards? That could be fun.”

“I think you can settle for just having it on normally.”

“Boo, you are no fun anymore, Virgin.”

Virgil did not say anything else. Remus jolted at the spark of pain it sent through him. The black dots that had begun to swarm around him since the act now dancing with sparkles of light. He wanted to finally allow his body to fall into the void even if he did not intend to take a break for reality today.

He continued to push energy out so that he would not die on Virgil. He already scared his friend once today that was the last thing he needed. The pricks of pain where the line he held onto as he was once again sewn back together.

“Will this even fix this kind of thing?” Virgil moved to sew the back of Remus’ neck.

“No idea. Usually when I get hurt bad it takes a few days to get me to stitch myself back together.”

Virgil’s hands paused, “Do you get hurt like this a lot?”

“Yeah, well, not beheading. Don’t know how long this will take to heal or maybe I will just grow another head!”

The needle went back to moving, “Let’s hope not. One head is already annoying.”

Remus’ smile slipped a little, but he forced it back up as Virgil came back around and cut the thread with his teeth. He moved his head a little and felt a wobble. The bone and muscle had not reattached itself quite yet, so he had no real control.

“Thanks Virgil.”

The needle and thread disappeared with another wave of the side’s hand and some bandages appeared. The rough texture wrapped securely around the sewn-up wound by careful hands. Not too tight so that he could not breathe.

“That should help, right?” Virgil asked.

“Yeah, things just got to grow back to reattach.” He wobbled his head to make a point, “Feels like a head-cold without the fever and coughing and green boogers.”

“So you won’t do it again?”

“Maybe, maybe not,” Remus wiggled his shoulders, “There are other ways to behead someone that I am interested in almost as much at the guillotine method. If not myself, then volunteers are always welcome.”

“Yeah, I will pass,” Virgil stood up and wiped looked at his hands with disgust, “You got blood on me.”

“In some parts of the imagination that is seen as a sign of good luck.”

Virgil looked down at his friend confused before he shook his head and tried to wipe some of the blood off on his pants.

“I’m gonna go wash my hands.”

“Oh, alright,” Remus tried to keep the disappointment hidden. He may not be doing a prank with Virgil, but he still wanted to hang out with the side. It seemed recently that the anxious side was pulling away from this subconscious family.

Virgil gave a small salute before he disappeared. He sank out instead of walk, as if he wanted to get away fast before Remus could get a chance to ask him to come back.

Not that Remus would think that. Sometimes Virgil just wanted to be alone just like some days Deceit wanted to be alone. Remus knew that, but he did not understand it. He liked being alone to think of new ideas but there always a part of him that felt like a piece of him was gone. He liked to be alone to create his new masterpieces but then he needed someone to see them.

A small sigh left him as he sunk out and appeared in his room. He did not have the energy to get up, so he just laid his head on a dirty pile of clothes and let his eyes fall closed. He would get around to talking to Roman another day, he promised himself.

He weakly noticed someone being summoned into his room before he finally slipped under silence's spell.

*

*

*

Remus opened his eyes slowly. His throat felt sore and his mouth felt dry. He wanted to get up and get some water but found all his body had the energy to do was to snuggle into the dirty pile of clothes that had become his pillow. The movement pulled at the threads that were sewn into his throat.

“Prob’bly gonna have to peel ‘em out,” he mumbled, “Like surgery.”

“I would advise you get someone else to help you.”

Remus did not move his face at the sound of the voice in his room. He just laid there and listened as muffled footsteps moved into the room before they halted next to his body.

"For the record I didn't mean to do it." Remus told his stinky pillow.

“So I was told. Virgil came and got me because he was concerned he had not properly treated the wound,” he felt Deceit sit down beside him, "If he had not I would have assumed you had seeing as you summoned me before fading."

There was a pause before the other continued.

“For a moment during my conversation with Virgil, I thought you had slipped up and told someone else about this predicament. Turns out you simply acted out of impulse.”

Remus tried to ignore the sad, bitter tone of Deceit's voice but it just settled into his gut with the rest of the guilt he carried. He did not fight the hands that pulled his face out of the pile of dirty laundry byt did wince at the ache that traveled down from his neck.

He blew some hair out his face to look up at the snake. In the dim light Deceit’s yellow eye seemed to glow; surrounded by the glimmer of scales.

It was...well there was only one way to describe it.

“Beautiful.” Remus was not shy to say it.

“Are you sure you did not cut your head in half instead of off?”

Gloved fingers carefully unwound the bandages and then lightly traced the line sewn along the front of Remus’ throat. The inflamed skin and stitches were covered by a newly formed scab so Remus assumed he had not been out for long. The touch burned his skin as the healing flesh was sensitive. It tickled a little as well and it took some effort to bite back the laughs.

“I’m sure," Remus gave a confused smile up at his friend, "I followed the instructions after all."

The hands moved away and left Remus feeling cold. Had he said something wrong?

“Then it must be the blood loss and lack of oxygen to the brain that is making you say such ridiculous things," Deceit commented.

Remus opened his mouth to protest but stopped as a hand returned to trace the line. The line of stitches and scab that was the only thing holding him together. He closed his mouth and just watched his friend above him. It was weirdly calming the motion. A familiar line that was now forever apart of him touched so gently.

“It will probably be another few hours before we can take the stitches out," Deceit said softly.

Remus’ only response was a hum.

The two sat there in silence in the dim light of Remus’ room. The hand eventually moved from the wound to move through his hair. It was not awkward after three years of the same waiting game. Where Deceit would tend to the wounds and wait for Remus to be well enough to be moved and cleaned up properly. Remus would go between life and death, unaware of the passage of time.

But right now he was aware. He was aware of every breath Deceit took. Every time the hand pulled back some of his hair. He was aware of the smell of dirty laundry. Just so much more aware about the world around him as he hung truly between life and death. If he was human he would never have survived this.If he was human he could not be here right now.

The awareness of his situation shook him to his core.

For the first time ever in the long years of chasing the high, Remus was lucid. More lucid after an attempt then he has ever been before and all because it had never been meant to be an attempt.

This was an accident.

He had just wanted to play a small joke on his brother for ignoring him for so long. Get his attention like he had promised, even though he knew he would never gain the courage to look his twin in the eye again. A small part of him thought of it as a cry for help to the one person he thought he could trust completely. The rest screamed that it was a prank that had been doomed from the start. That this was his way out of talking to Roman.

If Virgil had went along with his scheme then everyone would know, just like Deceit wanted, and he would never escape their fake care. For three years they had ignored him and celebrated his retreat to the dark. Not that he really cared about what they thought but Remus knew that if they found out then it would be one lie after the other.

The pretend concern. The pity that he hated to much. The worry that meant nothing. Only once he showed that vulnerability would they dare to try and reach out to him. Not because they felt sorry for him, oh no, but because they would feel bad about themselves. People were so self centered like that.

He blinked away a year as he pulled himself back to reality and looked up at Deceit. The angel of life that kept him in this world. He always had doubts behind Deceit's motives for caring.

Remus wanted to ask Deceit if he really cared about his deaths. If he mourned every death as if it took. If his friend grieved over the corpse that was simply an object without the life. Instead he stayed quiet for his friend's sake. He just let his mind focus on the gloved hand in his hair and tried to not feel so alone and empty. 


	5. Bang

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Months of fighting between Deceit and Virgil had finally come to a head and Remus is caught in the middle of it. All he wants is for his family to stop fighting so everything can go back to normal. But nothing is ever that simple and sometimes things cannot be fixed. 
> 
> He has never felt so alone.
> 
> TW: Guns, Blood, Self Harm, Head Hitting, Skulls, Nightmares, Slightly Unsympth!Virgil, Slightly Unsympth!Deceit, Shouting, Arguments, Name Calling, Panic Attacks, Abandonment Issues, Hopelessness, Suicide, Crying, Coma, Hallucinations, Betrayal (tell me if I missed anything)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I am late again. 
> 
> I knew this chapter would be heavy and took time to write it. I was not in the best mental spaces for a bit. I am not promising the end very soon but I do think that I will only add about 2-3 more chapters before ending this fic. 
> 
> Also if anyone has any resources for self-harm/suicide prevention please let me know! I want to promote the education and help while also writing this fic.

** Bang **

**don't leave me alone here like this**

Stealth was not an attribute usually credited with the trashy and lewd Duke, but it was a skill that he had cultivated. He learned how to fade into the shadows. To simply watch, listen, and observe. After all, you cannot get told-off for your ideas if you never seemed to be in the room.

Remus had not needed to use the skill much in his new home with Virgil and Deceit. They never asked him to keep the thoughts in. They listened to his ideas. They helped him sift through the nonsense so an idea could blossom and feed off the tears of readers like a carnivorous plant.

But that peace could not last forever no matter how hard Remus wished upon a star.

Nothing in the universe could have stopped the sides in the conscious mind from their sudden introduction to Thomas himself. And with that came the videos and suddenly everything in Remus’ world changed.

Remus picked some skin out from under his thumb nail as he sat in the shadows of the hallway. Just a room beyond he could hear fighting. These days there was always an argument going along between his friends. Fights about the other three sides, fights about Virgil’s mental health, fights about what Thomas did and did not want to know, and even a fight about who ate the last jar of jam.

It was Remus, not that they asked. Virgil automatically assumed it was Deceit and they continued their argument from the day before. He just sat at the kitchen counter with his burnt toast slathered in expired mustard; completely invisible to the pair.

Just as he was invisible now as he chewed on the hard, dead skin that he had managed to free.

“You cannot be serious about this, Virgil! They literally made you have a panic attack, why are you even defending them?” Deceit’s question was more shouted than asked. The faint hiss around the words showed how worked up the usually put together side was.

“I don’t see why I have to justify anything that I want to do to you! Why do you want to know so badly?” Virgil answered back.

“You were gone for a week, Virgil, I am concerned! What if they had done something to you?”

Remus’ eyes widened at the unfiltered distress that Deceit spoke. His heartbeat began to thump loudly in his ears as he shuffled over to look around the edge. Virgil’s back was to Remus, but the side could tell from the tense shoulders that Virgil was getting more and more defensive. Deceit was blocked just enough by Virgil’s body for Remus to be unable to see any expression.

“They wouldn’t hurt me,” Virgil said confidently.

“Just a month ago you said that they forcefully shape shifted you.”

“So what if they did!?!” Virgil’s voice distorted around the edges as he raised it louder,

“They still have their moments and up there I can help Thomas way better then hiding away like some scared child! I’m sick of hiding. For once I want to actually do something despite my fear and every **second of it has had you trying to make me stop**!”

Remus held onto the corner tightly as the room shook. The shadows in the corner of their living room seemed to get darker the angrier Virgil got. Anxiety began to claw into the duke’s chest. His heart wanted to jump out of his chest with the speed it was pounding. He wanted to run but he felt frozen to his hiding place.

An observer to the terrible anger that had begun to build a wall between his fragile family.

Virgil’s hands shook. Deceit’s were out of view. There was a deep breath taken as if that would help suck the tension out of the room like it was simply a balloon with too much air.

“I’m just worried about you,” Deceit’s next words were spoken in a calm tone, “You disappear for weeks at a time only to come back and shut yourself away. If this is about proving yourself to them or about personal pride, it is not worth it. What you have down here is worth much more then the emotional and verbal abuse that they are apparently throwing at you.”

Deceit tried to reach out to Virgil, but the side only pulled back. A harsh scoff that quickly dismissed the sincerity of Deceit’s words.

 _“Everything will be fine”_ Remus thought to himself.

“You would say that. Making it seem like down here is some sort of fantasy world of happiness, just because you hate them.”

“I don’t hate them!” Deceit hissed out, “They are the ones that hate us.”

 _“They always fight like this. It will get better soon,”_ Remus wished. The duke moved a hand and began to pick at the white scar along his wrist. His pulse beat rapidly under his fingers as he scratched at the skin. Pain followed the more lines were pushed into the tender flesh and tried to chase away the terrible scenarios roaming through his mind.”

“Maybe they hate you for a good reason. **Maybe they are right, and you are trying to hurt Thomas,”** Virgil’s words were like a gun shot. Fast, loud, and instantly brutal.

They stole Remus’ breath away as he pushed his nails harder into the skin. All he could do was stare at Virgil’s back as the other side stood tall. A force now more terrifying then anything that the ‘bad’ creative side could imagine.

Deceit took a step back, “What?”

“You heard what I said,” Virgil stood taller and hid his arms from Remus’ view, “Why do we have to hide down here? If you are actually trying to help Thomas, you would be up there with them. If you are essential to Thomas’ wellbeing you wouldn’t be hidden away. **You wouldn’t be working from the shadows. You would actually look like every other side!** ”

A gasp was heard from where Deceit stood. Remus’ own hand covered his mouth in shock as he looked upon the figure that had replaced his friend. Because that was the only reasonable solution. Virgil would never say something like that to Dee. The two had been together before the split. Before-

 _“Before me,_ ” an evil thought got through the pain he inflicted on his scar, _“Before I was ever a part of this.”_

He looked down at his hands. Blood had broken through the nail punctures and let red streaks run down his forearm. He stared at it in shock.

_“Why do I hurt everyone I love?”_

Deceit’s voice rose up from the shadows and broke Remus out of his mind’s hold. He looked back on the scene. Virgil had not eased out of his defensive posture. Deceit seemed to have gone stiff.

“I am glad you finally decided to tell me what you really think about me, **_Anxiety_.**”

Deceit said the name with such hostility that is shook Remus to the core. Never in the years he had lived down here had he heard such anger and hatred.

“If you truly think that I am as ‘monstrous’ as you claim then why do you stick around? Why don’t you run off to your little ‘perfect’ friends?”

“ **Maybe I will!** ”

Remus curled his knees to his chest.

“Everything will be fine,” he tried to convince himself under his breath. As much as he tried to convince himself that it was the truth the startled look Deceit sent his way was enough to tell him he had failed. Without a word, the usually boisterous side sank back into his room before his friend alerted the other of his presence.

His back rested against the cool stone of his walls. A dungeon fit for a lonely Duke. His arm stung from where he had tried to dig out his veins. A tear slipped down and onto the cuts; the salt in the mixture burned in a way that brought him peace of mind.

_London Bridge is falling down, falling down, falling down.  
London Bridge is falling down, my fair **Virgey.**_

He pressed the heels of his hands into his eye sockets as hard as he could to keep the tears away. Maybe if he was lucky, he could push his eyes back into his skull. Have them be lost in the **juices of his brain. Just allow the coils that made him real slither out onto the floor.**

Remus laughed through the tears and pain. A deranged sound that bounced off his bare, stone walls as he let his hands fall to his side.

His head hit the stone wall with a thud as he let it fall backwards. The pain that blossomed up from it did not seem to register fully in his brain as the laughter continued. He did the motion again. And again. And again.

Each time with more force. Each time he laughed harder at the sound of his skull crashing against the hard stone.

_“Someone help me.”_

He hit harder and felt dizziness begin to bloom.

_“Please tell me this is not real.”_

He felt something wet trickle down the back of his shirt.

_“I can’t lose Virgil. I can’t.”_

He hit one more time before he just let himself rest against the wall. Blood oozed down from the back of his head and then dripped into his shirt.

_“Virgil won’t leave me. He won’t.”_

He laid there as his thoughts sluggishly stirred around in his painfilled brain. He grasped at every little whiff of a solution to the fear at hand, but they all flew away before he could cage them. It was a jumbled mess that he could not make sense of that danced along to the throbbing pain of his skull.

Time moved but Remus was not aware of it. He just stared up into space as he let his back become painted with the red blood. He couldn’t move, not that he wanted to. In his room he could pretend.

Pretend everything was okay. Pretend he never heard his friends fighting. Pretend that he was happy. Pretend that he was alright.

Pretend that he didn’t fear being alone.

The sound of a door opening caught his attention. His eyes glanced to the elaborate doorway and listened. Instead of the click of heels from Deceit’s way too shiny shoes he heard the faint sound of shuffling feet. A sound he had learned to listen for if he wanted to catch Virgil off guard.

Remus pushed himself off the wall with a groan. The blood soaked back of his shirt peeled off the wall with a satisfying hissing sound. He placed a hand to the back of his head to feel the crack and the matted hair.

His ears still trained to the sound of someone moving outside he took off the overly decorated jacket and swapped it for a simple pooh bear t-shirt he had stolen from Roman years ago. A smile plastered itself onto his pale face as he timed his pounce just right.

As the soft footsteps got right to his door, he turned the handle and pulled it open.

“Vir-!” He had expected Virgil to be there. What he had not expected was a large duffle bag slung over the side’s shoulder, “-gil?”

Virgil jumped and the bag landed on the ground with a loud thump. Remus’ eyes followed it.

His mouth felt dry, the ache in his head seemed to grow more intense, and Remus wanted nothing more to wake up from this dream. For his thoughts to not jump to a million and one conclusions.

“You are carrying a body off without me?” Remus tried to joke but it felt bitter on his tongue.

“What?”

Remus motioned to the bag at their feet, “Body? Or is it tools for a robbery? Or a murder? Or a robbery murder combo?” He gasped, “Is this an assassin mission? I hope the target is my brother!”

_How nice it would be for them both to go on an assassin mission together. Both dressed in darks, Virgil’s agility and his carefully timed jokes would make them an unstoppable duo. **Virgil probably would be a great sniper. Just taking them all out and painting the floors red before anyone could scream.**_

“No, Remus, I’m…I’m leaving.”

Remus’ assassin story train halted and ran off the tracks. He could feel his heard plummet down the cliffs into the acidic ocean of his stomach.

“L-leaving?” The smile on his face seemed to get painfully wider, “Leave to where? Last I checked we cannot roam too far away from our lovely Thomathy.”

Virgil pinched the bridge of his nose, “I’m leaving here. I’m going to live with the others.”

“Why? They’re dumb and mean. Plus Roman’s pixie dust gets everywhere and you are sneezing it for months. Once I got it on all my clothes and they were all floating on the ceiling. I don’t even know how they did that since they don’t have thoughts…” he paused, “Unless clothes are sentient in which case, we need to take these off and prepare for the clothes wars. Strip”

“No!”

He reached to pull his shirt off, but cold hands forced his arms back down.

“No stripping,” Virgil let go of Remus’ arms once they were back down at his side, “And the others are not so dumb and mean as you think. Logan is pretty cool, and Patton can be funny sometimes. Plus I like it up there better than being down here.”

_Better than being down here with you._

The thought raced around Remus’ mind at top speed. An ever-turning tornado that made him want to throw up.

“But we’re your family.” _Please don’t leave me alone._

The breakfast food fights. The bad horror movie marathons. The pranks. Did they all mean nothing now? Did _he_ mean nothing to Virgil now that he made friends with Roman’s little gang?

Virgil shook his head no and picked up his duffle bag again. How badly Remus wanted to set it on fire and watch it burn **. _And Virgil with it._**

“Family?” Virgil looked at him confused.

“Yeah, family. You, me, and DeeDee,” Remus felt his world begin to shatter like broken glass. Did Virgil not see it? “All of us. A little, broken family. I know Dee said some mean things and you did to, but…but we can smooth this all over. Go back to how things were.”

_Please, please, please don’t go._

Remus held out a hand for Virgil to take. For him to take the offer to help him put everything back together. Instead the anxious side took a step back and stared in fear at the blood-stained hand. Remus had forgotten he had felt the injury before he opened the door.

“We are **_not_** family. I am nothing like you guys,” Virgil pushed the hand away in disgust, “I know how you treat family.”

Ice seemed to do down Remus’ spine.

_Hands right around Roman’s throat. A head bashed into the pavement. A scared look on his brother’s face._

**_How did Virgil know?_ **

“Virgil, I-I never meant to-.”

“That’s the thing, you never _mean_ to do anything. The fact is, _Duke_ , is that you do. You do and you hurt people!”

Remus got a sickening feeling of déjà vu. Virgil’s words meshed into the memory of Roman’s anger. The disappointed looked of Patton. The quiet disapproval of Logan. A terrible cloud of hatred for himself made by himself and others. It suffocated him like a thick smog.

He opened his mouth to defend himself but found his voice stuck in his throat.

“You two can have your demented little family with your bloody fantasies and evil lies but I am out. I’m going to _actually_ help Thomas. **Not give him nightmares. Not make him lie to his friends. Not hurt anyone for FUN. Actually _Help!”_**

The walls shook and Remus had to grab onto the doorframe. How much did Virgil know? How much did he believe? How long had his friend been afraid of him because of a mistake? Remus wanted to know but at the same time he wanted nothing more then to curl up and hide away forever.

“Vir-.”

“ ** _Don’t say my name! You do not get to call me that anymore,_** ” Virgil’s eyes glowed purple as he stalked forward.

Remus felt more and more like a child under the wrath of an angry parent. His voice was gone; strangled before it could make a sound. He wanted to apologize for what he had done to Roman years ago. Apologize for whatever he did to make Virgil so mad. _Apologize for just being made. He didn’t ask for this._

**_“I didn’t ask to exist!”_ **

He didn’t say any of it out loud. For once he stood silent in the shadows as he stared at the person that had replaced one of his best friends.

“Just leave me alone for the rest of our lives,” Remus heard Virgil say but it sounded so far away. Like a floating melody that cut like barbed wire. He shrunk back into his room and closed his eyes tightly. The sound of hurried footsteps washed away by the roaring thoughts in his mind.

Maybe if he wished upon a star hard enough everything would go back to how it was a month ago. With all three of them piled on top of each other on the couch watching Disney Channel reruns.

He wished and wished and wished as silent tears began to slide down his cheeks once more. Oh how he was sick of crying. The salty water that streamed from his eyes was useless and pathetic. He wasn’t emotions so why was he breaking? Why did the tears cut through the black eyeshadow? Why did they stain his face and the carpet?

He opened his eyes to find himself alone in the hall. No sound of laughter from the living room. No music from the room close by. Nothing but silence and shadows.

Remus turned his head in the direction of Virgil’s room. He expected to see a familiar black door with chipped paint; ‘KEEP OUT’ tape wrapped around it with signs telling Remus to stay out. Instead all he saw was a wall. As if Anxiety had packed up the door itself and walked out with it in his body bag.

Slowly the duke moved across the hall and pressed a hand to the spot where the familiar door should be. His bloody hand stained the wall.

_“I did something wrong. I must have pushed him too much or annoyed him too much. Stupid, stupid, stupid.”_

He grit his teeth and punched the wall. The pain that flared up in his hand was nothing compared to the pain that crushed his heart.

**_“He met Roman and realized I’m the stupid twin. I’m the throw away. I’m weird. I’m disgusting. I’m evil.”_ **

He hit the wall again and heard a finger crack. The wave of dizziness from the broken bone only spurred him on to kick at the wall with his barefoot. He imagined the wall was this imposter Anxiety’s face. His Virgil would never leave them. His Virgil would try and keep this family together.

His Virgil didn’t hate him.

His left hand had begun to bruise as he slowly slide down to the floor. Despair and exhaustion gripped him tightly as he curled up into a ball against the beaten-up wall.

“Please come back,” he spoke aloud to no one because no one cared to listen. No one ever did.

*

*

*

Remus woke up with a massive headache and his left hand bruised ugly colors. His position on the hall floor was uncomfortable as it was cold. He blinked his eyes open sluggishly and winced. They stung with every blink and felt swollen from crying.

A sadness settled in his gut before he remembered why he had slept in the hallway. When the memory resurfaced from his tired brain, he nearly convinced himself to lay there. Just curl up and waste away into nothingness or until someone found him.

Maybe Virgil would come back and see the state he put him in. Feel guilty and plead for mercy he would never get.

Or maybe Remus would just lay there and wait for death to take him back into her bosom once more. **Hopefully even keep him this time.**

Now that was a startling thought. Of all the ‘attempts’ he had gone for none had really gone for the end goal of his destined eternity of damnation. They had been simple escapes from the burden of ignored creative ideas.

This was new. He was not sure if he liked it. He indeed knew ways that did not work so it would surely be just a process of elimination to find the correct way. If he began now, he could probably be dead by noon.

His eyes moved around the silent hallway as if someone was there that could read his thoughts. In a way, he did find that person, at least the door to that person. His mouth went dry as he stared at it. A tiny part of him hoped that Deceit would show his face and help him. Just know that something was wrong.

Instead the door stayed shut. The hallway stayed silent. The perfect backdrop to the symphony of thoughts and ideas that began to screech in his demented mind.

Remus pushed himself to his feet carefully. His left hand, most likely broken, cradled against his chest. He stood against the wall that should be Virgil’s door for a moment.

“ _Drink some Drain Cleaner. Hang thyself. Jump into the Ocean. Freeze to Death. Jump into a Volcano.”_ His thoughts sang.

He forced a foot towards the bicolored door. Every step felt like an uphill battle against the dark shadows that wanted to swallow him whole. A sense of dread he had never before felt wanted to claim him.

The door seemed miles away when in reality it was only ten steps.

“Dee?” His voice was scratchy and weak.

A gentle tap to the door before he leaned against it to listen in. All he could hear was more silence.

“Virgil’s gone,” he said to the silent room. He thought he heard something move.

Remus waited for the door to open but it stayed locked. It stayed silent. Fear sparked through him as his thoughts began to race once more.

_“Deceit left too. He hates me too. Now I am all alone. **I just chase everyone away.”**_

“Deceit? Please tell me you are still here,” Remus did not hide the tremble in his voice. The panic seized him, and he tapped on the door, “Please answer me.”

Deceit said he could come to him with this. Deceit promised he would listen. Deceit said he wanted him to stop and talk to him. Why would he not answer when he finally reached out?

“E please!”

“Go away, Creativity,” the response was muffled response.

It felt like a sweet scream of pain to know that his friend was still with him but did not want him around.

“Deceit?”

“I said go away, Duke!”

_Build it up with Iron Bars  
Iron Bars, Iron Bars  
Build it up with Iron Bars  
My fair **Snakey**_

He opened his mouth to say…something. He did not know how to plead for help from someone that was clearly adamant to be alone. So angry that Remus wanted to be talked to. To get away from the silence the loneliness.

The Duke stepped away from the door.

“Okay,” he said it so softly he was sure that Deceit didn’t hear it.

He could go away. So he did. He walked away from the door and back into his own room. The door shut and locked behind him.

If Virgil hated him and Deceit wanted him to go away, then he would do it. He would do anything for his own family. If this works, he hopes they will be happier without him around. Maybe they could even put aside the months of fighting and get along once more.

Maybe Roman could finally be Thomas’ sole creativity like everyone wanted.

He sits on his desk and thinks about writing a note but that seems cliché. Instead he just holds out his left hand and feel the cold metal of a gun as it materializes in his grasp. He checks the chamber to make sure it is loaded.

As the cold metal barrel is stuck in his mouth, he allows himself one last thought before he pulls the trigger.

_“At least if this doesn’t work, I get to avoid this heartbreak.”_

The last thing he feels is the cold trigger being pressed down. The last thing he hears is the beginning of a **BANG.** Then everything went black.

*

*

*

Remus snuggled into Virgil’s jacket as the side in question looked through the different VHS tapes of Disney movies. He movie night had yet to begin but already the creative side was tired. It had been so long since his two best friends in the world had just existed in a room and not fought. A sense of calm and genuine happiness had settled into him.

“Hey, no falling asleep yet,” Deceit’s voice came up from behind him, “We have not even started the first movie.”

Remus just slumped over to lean against his friend’s shoulder when the man sat down. A happy smile on his face when he was not pushed off.

“I can’t help it. I get all warm and cozy and I just want to take a nappy-nap.”

“Nappy-nap?” Virgil looked over at the pair, “What are you, five?”

“Yes,” Remus answered back with a smile, “Can we watch Lion King?”

“We watched that ten times last movie night. In a row,” Deceit said.

Remus shrugged, “I like the songs.”

Virgil frowned down at said movie and then shrugged, “We can watch it-.”

“Yay!” Remus cheered.

“But after that you got to _wake up.”_

Remus blinked. That did not sound right. He stuck a finger in his ear and wiggled it around. A black clump of ear wax came out and he flicked it over at Virgil. The clump just passed through the side. That was not right.

He looked to Deceit.

“That sounds alright with me,” The other man did not seem to notice, “I do like _wake up!”_

Remus yelped in fright when the last words distorted and were shouted. He moved back off his friend and curled more into the stolen jacket. Neither seemed to notice their friend’s freak out. They continued what should have been friendly banter but instead was a terrifying chorus for Remus.

“ _Wake up! Wake up! Wake up!”_ Virgil said over and over again. Every time seemed louder.

 _“I can’t lose you too! Please wake up!”_ Deceit’s mouth said.

The living room scene began to fade away the louder the words got. The dark shadows of the subconscious slowly began to consume the comfortable setting until all that was left was Deceit and himself sitting alone. Virgil was nowhere to be seen and the jacket was no longer around Remus’ shoulders. Slowly Deceit began to fade too.

“Wait!” Remus called out but it was too late.

Something wet hit his cheek and he tried to move a hand to figure out what it was but found that his body would not respond. Panic seized him again as he tried everything to get himself to move. Nothing worked. He was trapped in his own body.

He closed his eyes tightly and tired to block out the voice but it only got louder.

_Wake up._

_Wake up._

_Please wake up._

_“I can’t…I can’t…”_

“I need you, please, Remus.”

Remus felt himself being held by someone’s shaking chest. Arms were wrapped tightly around his torso and something wet was falling onto his face. Sobs mixed into the desperate pleas. Every little sound seemed to add to the rapid heartbeat that his ear was pressed against.

It also added to his headache and the general ache of his whole body. He could not stop the groan that escaped him as a sob shifted him a little too quickly.

The crying paused and the person that held him loosened their grasp. Something Remus was both grateful for and terrified of. What if they left him now that they knew he was alive?

“Remus?”

He knew that voice. He knew that voice very well, but he had never heard it so small and distraught.

He tried to say something, but it seemed that his brain did not have the capabilities at the moment to try and talk. All he could do was give a pained whine as he was full let go of and rested on a soft surface. Had he been abandoned?

“I’m right here, Remus,” a gloved hand slipped into his, “I’m not leaving. You are not either.”

A shaky breath and he felt unruly curls rested against his hand. Deceit had laid his head down beside their hands.

“I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have…I messed all of this up. I fucked up, Remus, and I don’t know how to fix it. I was just trying to protect him and now…and then I thought you…you were gone for three months…”

Remus squeezed the hand as tightly as he could. His eyes flickering open for just a moment to see grey walls with yellow squiggled on them. Enough to know that he was in Deceit’s room. Not enough to keep them open to look at the state of his friend.

_“Three months? That is a new record.”_

“Fuck, Remus, I thought you actually did it. I thought…I’m sorry. I told you, you could come to me and I pushed you right back into the battlefield without a care. Maybe he is right, maybe I am a monster.”

“…no…”

One of Remus’ eyes finally listened to his commands and fluttered open. The dim light of the room was still too much, but he held back a hiss. Instead he turned his head to look over his friend. He had never seen Deceit so distressed over another one of his experiments.

But this was not an experiment. No, Remus knew that.

This time it was for real.

Deceit seemed to understand that too.

“Remus-.”

Remus weakly brought their joint hands up to cover Deceit’s mouth. He shook his head no.

Deceit sighed and pushed their hands to fall back onto the bed. He only hesitated a moment before crawling into his own bed next to his friend. They both laid there in silence. Deceit occasionally sniffling and Remus staring up at the ceiling until he let his eyes close once more.

It was just the two of them now.

There would never be third person to the cuddle pile. Never be a gremlin on top of the fridge. Never have five am conspiracy conversations. Never.

“Never…” he mumbled the word. Somehow saying out loud made it feel more real.

_Iron bars will bend and break  
Bend and break, bend and break  
Iron bars will bend and break  
My fair **Dukey.**_


	6. Drown

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The last thing Remus expected to see was Deceit having fun with the light sides. Especially his brother.   
> Well if Deceit can make friends with the light sides, then so could he. Seeing as one of them has been pushed to the back of the court room, it is the perfect opportunity to try. 
> 
> TW: Drowning, lightning, mention of bestiality, arguments, mentioning of sexual acts, self destruction habits/thoughts, ocean, boat abuse, loneliness, suggestion of brotherly harm, self doubt (please mention any I forgot)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IT HAS BEEN OVER A MONTH AND I AM SO SORRY. I will give you my blood in payment for getting off schedule.   
> I have excuses: graduating college soon, three research papers, depression, work hours. None are good enough.   
> Maybe the one where I kept rewriting it kind of works. Doubt it. Anyway, here it is! It is here! It is queer! (like me lol)  
> Please enjoy, roast me in the comments for being late, and I thank you to those that came back after so long of a wait.
> 
> Recommended thing of the chapter (bad title): Calm Harm! Recommended by BeeCeit whom I love very much for this amazing suggestion!

** Drown **

**_It's nice to know that you were there; Thanks for acting like you cared_ **

Drowning is objectively a peaceful way to die.

Logan told him that a long time ago.

He always could get lots facts when Logan was not focused on anything in particular. Any random question that popped into his demented mind would be answered with barely any hesitation. Sometimes he would sneak into the logical side’s room and just let the wave of logical thought wash over him. Sit in the dark and stare up at the stars on Logan’s ceiling. Ask a question or two when ever one decided to make itself known.

Remus always liked the weird facts and disturbing theories. He liked them more when Logan played along with his honest inquiries and answered him.

Right now, however, he has no questions to ask. Remus is silent as he sits next to Logic, a side he had not seen in years, and could only watch the scene before them with unblinking eyes. Even as a part of someone’s unbridled imaginative thought he could not have seen any of this coming.

Before him sat Thomas. The human he wanted so badly to inspire. The human he was a part of. The human that he cheered when he got close to a dream and cried for when another idea fell into the dust of reality. Thomas. His Thomas. So close but unseeing to the two sides that sat far behind him.

Next to Thomas was Morality. After all these years, Patton did not seem to have changed. He still spouted off the nonsense of selflessness above everything, still surprisingly clever under a soft exterior. The heart of Thomas spread out his case before the court that Thomas should throw away a dream opportunity for Lee and Mary Lee’s wedding.

Roman judged them all. Thomas’ hopes and dreams being forced to weight between the right and wrong. Remus could not let his eyes stay long on his twin. Any time he let his eyes wander up to the other half of his function all he saw were hands around Roman’s neck and smell iron in the air. He half expected the bruises to still be apparent around the throat even though the event happened years ago.

In the witness stand was a ball of purple and black. His former best friend now hissed insults at any words that came from Deceit’s mouth.

Deceit.

That was the reason that this whole situation was hard for his mind to conceptualize it as reality. Deceit, out of his usual attire to get into the role, a smirk on his face as he sends a not-so hidden flirtatious mark up at Roman. Remus knew that Deceit had begun to interact with Thomas, he was aware of how much the other sides made the snake rage. He was even there to help Deceit with the Patton disguise.

But now, as his twin stifled laughter from a Ten Angry Men joke made by Remus’ best friend, all the Duke felt was a rock settling in his stomach.

It hurt that he felt jealous. It hurt that he was mad.

Here was his best friend joking and laughing more then he had done since the fights with Virgil began. Remus felt terrible for being angry that Deceit found fun with his brother instead of him.

To be replaced with what he knew was something better. No matter how many times Remus went through this loss, it still hurt like a fresh wound every time.

It hurt to be forgotten.

“How do you handle this?” Remus asked the question, but Logan did not answer.

Logan did not need to give the Duke that answer. He already knew.

**_You never handle this. You just hope they turn back and see your pain of being shoved to the side._ **

Remus let a deep sigh go through his nose and then turned his head to the side that sat beside him. Logan had barely changed in their years apart. Hair still neat, tie still blue, and shirt still black. The darkest of the ‘Light Sides’ but he would be the lightest of the ‘Dark Sides’. In all the dramatic change of life, Logan could always be relied on to be a stationary being. A jagged rock to cling to as a typhoon raged around you.

“Blinking is usually a recommended action to prevent your eyes drying out,” Logan said the words quietly; his eyes did not leave the court scene.

Remus did blink, as recommended, and a smile spread on his face. One that was just too wide to be natural and just too tight to be genuine.

“Run away with me.”

“What?”

The statement seemed to work to get Logan to look away to the scene he was being excluded from. Dark blue, almost black, eyes boring into Remus’ unnatural green.

“Run away with me,” Remus rested his elbows on Logan’s armrest and propped his chin on his hands.

Logan looked at the infringement of his personal space with barely disguised annoyance before he allowed eye contact to continue.

_“Dark eyes. Dark as the night. **Dark as a pit. Dark the void that comes to swallow us all.”**_

Remus impossible grin seemed to get wider.

“Why would I do that?”

“Because why stay in a place where everyone shoves you to the side?”

Logan turned his head back to the scene sharply. He seemed to sit up straighter.

“I may be needed. This is a dangerous situation allowing Deceit so much control-.”

“We both know that Double-D is not the one that has too much control here, Dr. Frankenstein.”

Logan’s eyes glanced to Patton. A subtle action but Remus caught it and his tight smile lessened. He sat up and watched the witness stand. His eyes staying trained on Anxiety while Anxiety’s stayed locked onto Deceit with such hatred.

“Even if that were the case,” Logan continued, “I still may be needed. This is a problem that could use a great deal of logical reasoning of both the internal and external factors.”

“Then why are you not up there being, like, the evidence giver person?” Remus frowned, “Do they have a name? I don’t think those people have a specific name.”

“It depends on the case,” Logan replied blandly, “And I believe they think all the rolls are covered. I am simply an unimportant witness.”

Remus’ tight smile disappeared behind a blank expression. His eyes scanned the court room scene before him as if he was taking in a puzzle. After a moment he clicked his tongue and pushed himself to his feet.

“Is there a rule about witnesses leaving once they have given their statement?”

“I believe so, Thomas has not done a significant amount of research on court procedure. Not that it matters because this is not a real court room, Roman is not legal judge, and the actual case on trial is not a serious legal matter.”

Remus held out a hand, “Then run away with me.”

Logan looked over the hand. Remus had to glance down at his own open palm to make sure there was no dried blood or obvious dirt that could scare Logan off.

“Why? Why do you want me to run away with you?”

Remus shrugged but kept his hand outstretched, “I just don’t see a reason to stick around a place you aren’t wanted in. Better to go out and do something fun then sit around waiting to be noticed.”

Logan’s relaxed posture seemed to stiffen a little as Remus talked, but the Duke could not guess what he had said that would make the Logical switch body language so quickly. The hand is ignored as Logan goes back to watching the court room scene.

“I am wanted,” Logan said the statement like he said a universal fact, “Thomas needs me and so do the others. Even if I am not involved physically in the conversation, I am still a vital part of Thomas. I believe leaving the court room with you would be detrimental to Thomas’ wellbeing.”

Remus’ hand slowly lowered. He found himself unsure where to put them. He did not have pockets in his jacket or pants. He crossed them over his chest for a second before they moved down and started to play with a thread on his sleeve.

“Okay, so you want to stay for the court scene, I get that. Someone has to make sure Roman doesn’t sentence Thomas to death by crow murder.”

Remus giggled at the idea. In front of him Thomas winced.

“B-but,” Remus let his hands fall together in front of him, “What about after?”

“After? Why would you still be interested in spending time with me after?”

Remus shrugged, “Cause why not?”

An idea popped into his head and Remus gave a genuine grin, “Oh! I got a new ship! It’s an old fashioned one based on the _Vasa_. We could take it out in the imagination’s ocean see how she sails. Or just tour her.”

Logan was silent. He looked over Remus with a critical eye as if trying to find an ulterior motive. Remus just stared at him with a hopeful expression. He had not even gotten to show Dee his new ship next and maybe Logan would help with the accuracy.

“I will consider the offer,” is what Logan said.

Remus heard a yes. A huge grin on his face and he did his best to stay quiet to keep the rest of the sides from recognizing his presence. His mind was already running a mile a minute on how to make his ship ready for her first visitor.

“I can’t wait!” He gasped, “I have to go clean the cannons!”

He sunk out without another word to Logan except for a promise to send a time to meet.

He appeared back in his room. Green fairy lights clung to the ceiling and bathed the stone walls in an eerie color. A boot covered foot shoved piles of weapons and clothes under his bed. A crunching noise of something chewing could be heard as the clothes disappeared into the black void. The bed may have been small, but everything disappeared into the dark maw.

A burp came from somewhere under the bed, but Remus was already across the room. He lightly traced the chipped silver dragons that were carved around the closet door. He followed the trail of dragons, serpents, and tentacles until he found his finger rested on top of a cold ruby.

Without second thought he pushed the gem and the red color slowly bled away to a dark green. Behind the closed doors of the closet a bright light shone and then the muffled sound of thunder could be heard.

Remus stepped back and squared his shoulders. He plastered a smile on his face as he threw open the doors and stepped into the dark chamber of a castle.

“Someone get me a crew and get the _A.S.S. Kraken_ ready for visitors!”

*

*

*

Remus stood on the dock and faced the land. He had been in this position for hours and the smile he had plastered there was probably stuck. Unfortunate because he would rather have any other facial expression stuck on his face for eternity.

The sun had begun to slowly sink behind the distant mountain range. It casted the world in shadows that reached out toward him with greedy claws. People on the seaport town started to scurry to find shelter from the darkness of night.

Remus just continued to stand there, but the permanent smile finally began to wane.

“Sire?”

His head snapped to the side with a crack and he loomed over the person that approached him. A small man that took a small step back in fear.

_“Probably used to work on the other side of the forest.”_

“I was sent to ask if we are going to be setting sail. You said we should be ready by five, but it is several hours past.”

Disappointment curled in Remus’ gut. He could try and make up excuses all he wanted but that would only bring someone else’s attention to his spur of the moment plans. The truth was clear, and it was much nastier.

“He is not coming,” He said it aloud, not caring for the man beside him, “Why did I ever think he would want to be around me?”

“Sire?”

Remus glanced down at the pitiful creation of the imagination. A life that did not know anything outside of the world.

“Get the anchor up, I will not stay waiting for him any longer.”

He picked up the large hat he had summoned just for the occasion and placed it on his head. He turned with mechanical movements and marched towards the boat now shadowed in darkness. The sun nearly gone behind his back.

He could play by himself. He had been doing so for years and it did not matter now.

The Duke, now captain, did not give a glance to the bowing sailors as he stepped onto the deck of his vessel. He made his way into his cabin and shut the door with a loud bang. Rage flooded through his body before it left him with a deep and weary sigh.

He should he known better then to try and befriend a ‘light side’. Especially Logan, the one that barely even liked the very idea of creativity. He should have just moved past the court room and not stuck his nose in anyone’s business. They all had been fine with ignoring him for the past few years, why couldn’t he?

Remus sat down on his desk chair and rubbed at his temples. His eyes glancing over at the framed pictures in the trifold. The left side had an old photograph of the ‘light sides’ before they became that name with the twins holding each other in head locks in the front. The right side had a painted picture of the entity that he been Creativity next to Arthur. The middle was the ‘dark sides’ where Anxiety was on the couch and Deceit was lounging on the floor next to him.

He wanted to throw the frame at the wall. Or out the giant windows of this room. Watch the glass break and **use the shattered remains to dig out his still beating heart. Throw that into the ocean for the sharks to eat so he could stop caring and feeling.**

He planted his face firmly on the desk and pushed in. His nose was squashed at a painful angel on the hard wood. The small bit of pain at least enough to appease his thirsty heart. A blind hand reached and smacked the trifold over so he could not see their eyes staring at him any longer.

Remus did not need the images of those he once considered family staring down at him. They had no right to see him at his lowest when they pulled away. Or were moving away in Deceit’s case.

It hurt.

Outside thunder rolled and waves crashed onto the wooden sides of the ships. Remus did not sit up as the gentle rocking of the boat became rougher. He closed his eyes tightly and pushed down onto the desk a little harder.

He needed to think.

What had he done that made everyone hate him so much?

He knew that the incident with Roman was bad, he wanted to apologize, but chances for that had slipped away a long time ago. Patton always seemed to dislike his ideas more then Roman’s and he had thought Logan did not mind his company. That had been wrong. Virgil…well he really had not clue what he had done wot make Virgil hate him so much.

Now Deceit. Remus guessed that he had become too dependent on his friend. A friend that liked solitude as much as Remus liked company.

Did that really justify leaving him for the others though?

A loud banging of thunder brought the contemplating side back to reality. The rock of the waves under his ship pressed his face too painfully into the wood and his nose crunched in an unpleasant manner. The iron smell of blood filled his senses as he finally lifted his head.

Outside the large window the ocean was pitch black and wild like a living creature that used its white foamy claws to beg the stormy sky for freedom. The window itself was bombarded with large drops of rain that hit the glass loudly. Every drop made the threat to break it and let the storm inside.

Another bolt of lightning lit the scene. Where there should have bene any easy view of the kingdom showed nothing but open ocean. Remus had let himself wallow in self pity for too long. It was probably the source of the storm.

The next crack of thunder shook the side to the bones as he stood up. The taste of iron filled his mouth as he stumbled over to the doorway. He did not both to try and staunch the flow of blood from his nose.

Remus opened the door to a chaotic scene of people running around with pales. Ropes being pulled to try and tame the sails that had not broken free in the harsh winds. The deck of the ship was slick with rainwater.

One of the members of the crew spotted him just as another bolt came down from the sky. Remus and a few men moved back at the brightness of the light as it struck the main mast. The wood exploded in a shower of splinters. The cloth of the sail fell down fast with the weight of the ropes, the black canvas already beginning to glow bright from the flames.

Remus was entranced. As much as he loved the ship, this was a new tale to tell. The creative vigor rushed through him and pushed back the melancholy he had felt all day.

The bang of thunder above him promised a good challenge and a wonderfully tragic end.

The duke grinned, a terrifying thing with the blood stuck in his mustache and moved out into the storm and chaos. A few waves splashed up onto the deck to add to the slickness. Hands that clawed for a sacrifice.

“Sire! We must abandon ship!” Someone called out to him over the storm.

Remus pretended to not hear as he made his way up to the wheel. It had been abandoned and was spinning furiously. He grabbed onto the wood and held on tight to fight the pull the wind and water wanted to rudder to go. The stain caused a few bones to pop in his shoulder, but he refused to let go.

His eyes glanced down at the compass next to the wheel. The ship, through some kind of convenient plot device, still pointed east in the original direction they had left. He could at least give the sailors a chance if he could turn the ship around back towards the mainland.

Remus cracked his neck and pulled as hard as he could to turn the wheel around. It was him against nature. The rain beat down on him hard and thunder rolled above.

The wheel barely budged.

“Sire it is no use,” the same man from the dock was next to him, “It is my duty to get you to a lifeboat as quickly as possible. The main sail is down, and leaks have sprung up in the belly.”

“A captain goes down with his ship,” Remus said through gritted teeth. He would not lose this wrestling match.

“Yes, but a prince ranks higher.”

“I’m. Not. A. Prince,” Remus felt the anger flood through him again. It fueled the pull of the wheel in the direction he wanted it to go. The ship fought against the storm’s winds as she slowly began to turn around.

Remus turned his head to the man next to him, “Don’t call me prince. Get on the lifeboat and sail west with as many people as possible. That is an order.”

The being took off without another word. He hoped the man would do what he was told and not try and get him off this boat.

After all, Logan had told him that drowning was a peaceful way to go.

A cruel smile was on the side’s face as he stood alone on the large ship. He had been so proud of her, so ready to show her off to anyone willing, and now he couldn’t get rid of her fast enough. Out of the corner of his eye he saw the shadows of distant boats as they were tossed away over the waves.

The small moment of distraction let the storm give their last blow. Another bolt of lightning crashed down onto the deck. The damp wood did not catch on fire the damage was done. Remus had let go of the wheel and he could tell that now there was a large hole in his vessel.

If he had gone down in a ship, he would have hoped it would have been as dramatic as in Pirates of the Caribbean. With the navy dude walking during the slow-mo as the ship around him exploded. An epic death in his eyes.

Now he found himself moving down and back into his cabin as the boat began to list. Items around the room slid to press up against the window in the back. He closed the door and stumbled to sit down on the bed.

If he was about to take a water nap, he might as well be comfortable while doing so. This had been a test coming for a long time so he should do it properly.

Water began to trickle into the room around the time the floor had reached a thirty-five-degree angle. It came in from under the door and pooled against the window. The more the ship listed the more water pushed up against the glass from both sides.

What Remus waited for was the crack. The crack of the ship finally splitting apart unable to hold itself together from its wound. He pulled his boots off and laid his head against the pillow. His eyes closed as he tried to ignore how disorienting it felt to have the world around him tilting against gravity.

Then thee was a loud crash and things moved much faster. Water that was once a trickle began to flow into the room at a faster pace. He sat up the best he could to watch the final act of his tragic sailors’ tale. The window showed him the sky as the world tilted in the opposite direction. The stormy clouds slowly disappeared under the dark waves. It swallowed up his little pocket of air and showed no more.

“Wonder how I will get home after this,” he mused to himself.

He did not have long to contemplate ideas. The pressure from the outside water started to send cracks along the glass. Sea water streamed through and allowed the cracks to widen. He did nothing to try and block them. He simply watched with curiosity.

He was rewarded as the window finally burst and the ocean seemed to flood in. The force knocked him back down and darkness danced in his vision for a second.

No corner of the room was left untouched by the ocean’s greedy hands. The salt stung his broken nose and eyes as he tried to get a grip on where he was. The bed under him soaked up the water.

_“The reason drowning is so feared it because of the panic.”_

The memory floated through his head as his lungs started to scream for fresh air. Something that he would not be able to provide in the new, undersea world. His hands gripped the bedding tightly as he tried to fight off his body’s natural need.

He lasted a minute before he opened his mouth desperate for oxygen. Water went down into his lungs and his body spasmed. His body naturally tried to expel it but the more he coughed the more water went in. He wanted to try and get out but by now it was too late.

He could feel the heaviness in his limbs and a fog start to cover his thoughts. Water continued to enter his lungs as his body weakly fought to expel it. The panic began to numb as he let his eyes close. He felt weightless and so tired. Under the ocean, far from everything and everyone.

*

*

*

Wet socks in stiff boots were Remus’ new least favorite thing. Sure, he was happy with a few discomforts, but he was tired, drenched, and just swam a few hundred miles or whatever. Sue him for being angry about wet socks in boots. Or slamming the door to the subconscious really loud.

The noise was enough to get the attention of Deceit. The side was on the couch with a bowl of ice cream and books, notes, and pens scattered all over the coffee table.

“Why are you wet?”

Remus barely glanced at the other side as he moved to get to the hallway, “Went swimming.”

“In your clothes?”

Remus stopped. The drops of water dripped down onto the carpet under his feet. His shoulders were stiff, and he felt the need to cough up more salt-water bile. He swallowed it down as he turned to face Deceit directly.

“Yes, what about it?”

“Just doesn’t seem very practical,” Deceit said slowly, “Considering you usually like skinny dipping.”

“Well maybe you don’t know me as well as you think you do. Why would I ever be practical?”

Deceit arched an eyebrow, “What crawled up your ass and died?”

“Maybe Logic since you suddenly want me to be logical about what I do. When have I ever been logical in my life? I’m random, I’m feral, I’m a drowned rat who refuses to die!”

Deceit put down the bowl of slowly melting ice cream and stood up. A worried expression on his face as he contemplated on what he should do. Hands moved up to grab Remus but seemed to think better and simply folded in front of his stomach.

“Remus, what brought his on?”

“Oh now you care. Thought you were too busy getting buddy-buddy with my brother. You two fucking now, or is the prude making you wait till marriage?”

Deceit took a step back, “What? You really think I would befriend Roman or any of the other sides.”

“Oh you are calling him Roman now. You two are _SOOOO_ close.”

Deceit’s hands balled into fists and he stood taller. It did not do much to intimidate the wet, slightly drowned zombie of a duke. He looked down his nose at the shorter side.

“I have always addressed him by his name because calling one of you creativity makes the other a pain in the ass. Though I am starting to see that it is your normal personality.”

“Well if you don’t like who I am so much, maybe you should just replace me with him!”

Remus turned on his heel and stomped down the hall towards his room. He heard Deceit following him.

“Well at least he wouldn’t get water all over the house!”

The duke turned around to glare down the hall at where Deceit stood. He wanted to run down there with his mace and just hit. Hit and kick and smash. **Watch the blood paint the walls. Remake the masterpiece cruelly stolen from him.**

“Do it! He is probably smarter than me too!”

Remus slammed the door to his room with a resounding bang. The muffled shouted reply of “Fine!” still heard.

He turned around and opened the door, “Fine!” He shouted back and slammed the door again for good measure.

The anger boiled over as he moved across the mess in his room and flopped down on the bed. He did not care about the wet blankets as he screamed into his pillow. A banshee wail only muffled by the small creation of cloth and stuffing.

His throat hurt when he finally ran out of air. He laid there, slightly suffocating in the pillow, as he let his breathing even out. Guilt wanted to crawl up and take him over, but he pushed that bitch back down. He wanted to go and get some tea with honey to sooth the sting in his throat, but it seemed safer to stay in his room on his bed.

A snap of the fingers had Remus into some sweatpants and an old Tinker Bell shirt that was slightly too small. He rolled onto his side and curled up into a ball. His thoughts began to swirl.

He did not need to start that fight. He was just so tired and lonely. Even after all these years, there was always that small fear that Deceit would throw him out. Leave him to die in the world between. He wished he could shut his dumb mouth sometimes. Just keep thoughts to himself.

The silence of his room was only broken by the ticking of the clock on the wall. The steady drum that did nothing but make his thoughts race faster. He missed the steady beat of Anxiety’s heart. He wished he still had the friend to go to with his worries. To stop him from rash actions by just knowing he needed someone around.

Minutes turned to hours as he just laid there in self-pity. What broke him out of the storm of destructive thoughts was a demand from his stomach. A demand not satisfied seeing as his under-the-pillow forbidden snacks were missing again.

He did not glance to check the time as he sat up. His bones popped from being in the same tense position for too long. The ocean water had dried up and left with half his hair stuck up in an odd angle. He tried to get it to lie flat but gave up when it just defied his spit covered hand.

Remus opened his door slowly and peeked out into the hall. The stillness and silence that usually haunted him now were a blessing. He stepped into the hall silently; a thankful note sent to Thomas’ brain design for having him be the closest door to the hallway entrance. The thankful note vanished when the kitchen light turned on just as he stepped inside.

“Thought you would be hungry.”

In front of him was Deceit. In a yellow robe and holding a mug of tea. If it was anyone else that had seen the snake side, they would not have mentioned the redness of the human eye and the tear track.

“You look like shit.”

Deceit gave a sad smile and looked down into his tea, “Can always count on you to make me feel beautiful.”

A tense silence settled around the two friends. _Former friends?_ Remus was not eager to find out of the new thought was right about the situation. The duke just shuffled around and grabbed an expired box of pop tarts from the top shelf in the cabinets. He purposely gave Deceit a wide bubble of personal space as he moved to the fridge to grab some pickles, mustard, and the last of the whipped cream frosting.

He paused as he reached for jam jar. A small glance being sent to Deceit.

“You…you don’t really want to replace me with Roman...right?”

Deceit looked at him with wide eyes and then turned to set the mug down on the counter. Careful movements got the duke to shut the fridge door. Much to the messy side’s surprise he was pulled into a firm hug.

“No. Never.”

“But what about in the court room?”

Deceit moved back, “You saw all that? Is that why you were so mad?”

Remus bit at his inner cheek and picked at the label on the jar he held. A small nod being the only answer he would give Deceit. There was a lot more to the story but that was all that Dee needed to know for now.

“Remus, I am not friends with any of them.”

Remus must have made a face that showed he did not fully believe because the side sighed. A hand moved to mess up the curls that were normally hidden under a hat. The lack of hat did mean there was get distress going on inside his friend’s mind.

“I just…I will admit that Roman’s goals do align with mine sometimes. Most of the time. Selfishness and aspirations are just compatible, but he is weak. He is a fragile ego that will toss everything he is supposed to protect out just because Morality gives him some puppy dog eyes!”

“Whoa,” Remus put the jar down and gently took Deceit’s hands, “Okay, there is a lot going on that I am not getting. I see that now.”

Deceit took a breath, “I’m sorry.”

“No, I am. I shouldn’t have been mad. I didn’t know what was going on and I assumed wrong.”

“You have every right to assume to worst of me. Everyone else does, even Thomas.”

Remus left his would-be dinner disaster on the counter, picked up Deceit’s tea, and gently led the side out of the kitchen to sit down on the couch in the living room. He kept an arm wrapped around the serpentine side’s shoulder. An invitation for the side to rest against him, which was taken without much thought.

“I just don’t understand them, any of them. I don’t believe that we do anything intentionally to hurt Thomas, but they seemed convinced that we are malicious diseases that must be stamped out.”

Remus nodded, “Do you think we are a virus or a bacteria?”

Deceit glanced up at him and then looked at the black screen of the television, “A parasite.”

“Like a tapeworm,” Remus whispered under his breath.

“I did not mean for you to feel like you were being left alone once more, but Virgil was correct. There is more influence in the conscious mind and in manifesting. With the selfless destructive path that is being pushed more recently, I just felt like it was my job to go and rebalance. Instead I fear I push him away from what he needs.”

“A tapeworm?”

“No, more self-care.”

Remus blinked slowly, “And a tapeworm would help with that because they are really cute?”

“Forget about the tapeworm,” Deceit’s voice hinted on the edge of annoyance before he took a long sip of his tea.

Remus moved to pull away from Deceit to give him more space. He had already instigated one fight today and he did not want to make his friend even more man. He found that his attempt to move was blocked by the snake holding onto the back of his shirt with a free hand.

“Don’t. I’m not mad at you. I just already had someone miss the point of my metaphors once today.”

“Oh. Was it the pinata one? Because I still think it is about murdering someone and taking their stuff from their lifeless corpse.”

“It is now about that, but yes it was. More proof I need a new one that alludes to actively pursuing personal happiness,” a small sigh as he settled into Remus’ side.

They both fell into silence. The darkness of the room only given a soft glow from the kitchen light behind them. Remus rested his cheek on Deceit’s head as they just sat there musing in their thoughts. Remus was the one to break it.

“So what are you going to do now?”

Deceit sat up enough to place the cold tea on the coffee table, “I don’t know.”

“You always know, though. That is how smart you are.”

Deceit gave a weak smile at the compliment, “I guess, but smartness does not mean I understand. They are so confusing.”

He raised his right hand with his palm facing the ceiling, “On one hand Thomas says he wants to be more honest and deal directly with his issues.”

The felt hand copies the right, “But on the other he constantly deceives himself about the true nature of his personality not being as rainbows and unicorns as he wants to believe. Thus it is a round-a-bout way to justify putting himself last and ignoring truth.”

Deceit let his hands drop, “How can you be honest when you constantly are lying?”

“Well, in a way, he is always a rainbow.”

Deceit opened his mouth, but Remus cut him off.

“But I guess I get it,” he tapped a rhythm against his leg. A beat passed before he sat up straight. The sudden movement causing Deceit to give an unhappy hiss. “Oh my Thomas!”

“What?”

Remus did not answer as he pushed himself free from the snake’s embrace and went rushing out of the room. He pushed opened his door. Quick feet got him over the clothing piles to get to a nightstand. He pushed a few teeth and shiny candy wrappers out of the way to grab a small notebook.

A snatch of a stolen quill from the desk and he was running back into the living room. He jumped over the back of the couch and gave a giant grin to Deceit. The man looked a little less impressed with the stunt.

“You left me cold and alone after pouring my heart out to you for a notebook?”

“Not just any notebook! A songbook, you just gave me some super good lyrics for my new theme song.”

“Theme song?”

Remus flipped open the book and licked the tip of the quill pen. Red sparkly glitter wrote down the newest additions to his lyrical masterpiece. It clashed greatly with the normal dark green on the page, but all is fair when you are siblings. Sometimes when you lose your favorite quill you just have to steal your twin’s.

“’Recently a snake offered me a morsel’...Remus why are you writing this?”

“I don’t know, but I feel like I need a theme song. Maybe with airhorns, haven’t decided on the actual score yet.”

Deceit’s eyes glanced over the opposite page from where Remus was writing. Remus did not mind, especially because it could help with the few spelling mistakes he probably made.

“You mention Thomas a lot,” Deceit said slowly.

“Yeah, well, he seems like a good audience for this,” Remus answered with a shrug. He was done writing down the new lyrics and had started to doodle little octopi in the margins.

Something tense hung in the air around them. Remus could not put his finger on it. It could be he was still hungry, or he was worried he would get told that his performance to Thomas would not happen, or even that Deceit thought the song was lame. He kept his eyes down to hope it would pass. He was sick of the weird feelings around his friend.

“I must say, you are the most honest person I know.”

Remus raised his head to look at Deceit directly.

“And I am mad at Roman for humiliating me.”

“What are you saying?” Remus’ eyes narrowed.

“Nothing. Nothing, just it seems unfair for me to go against what I preached for most of our lives while you stay hidden. Also that your brother gets more influence over Thomas’ creative ideas.”

Remus’ eyes widened and a huge smile split across his face. He wanted to scream. He wanted to jump in the air. He wanted to kiss Deceit or fuck a dolphin or kiss Deceit while fucking dolphin.

“Just don’t do anything too…unsavory.”

“Oh Dee, you know I can’t promise that,” Remus’ mind ran a mile a minute on how to make his entrance into Thomas’ consciousness memorable, “I’m going to need to borrow your clothes, a coffin, some trumpets, and permission to hit Roman with my morning star.

“I’m starting to regret this.”

“I’m taking that as a yes! Woo!”


	7. Hang

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Remus finally is free to show himself to Thomas as he pleases. Maybe now that Thomas can come to terms with some of his more darker thoughts, the sides can work on repairing their relationships. At least, Remus thought so, but it seems that once again he is left in the shadows. 
> 
> TW: Hitting, verbal abuse, blood, some unsympth!sides kinda, hanging, suicide, suicidal thoughts, suffocation, injury, secrets, self depreciation, loneliness

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ten rewrites and I am still nervous about showing you all this. I am so sorry for the lateness, again. Depression gets worse when locked away indoors, who knew. heh. 
> 
> Anyway, please enjoy and thank you for your patience. You all are the best readers ever.
> 
> Recommending today: Things to Smile About, because Thomas is a bean who gives good vibes.

** Hang **

**People don’t like me much, Thomas**

_T’was the night before a video  
And all were asleep  
Except for one side  
Who had a plan to reap._

“Oh, that was good,” Remus stopped in careful walk down the dark hallway of his familiar home to scribble down the verses into his dirty old notebook.

With a snap the book was closed and back in his room. He did not have the time to run back now as his destination was right in front of him. Since the last video Remus had been planning out everything. From the chorus to the props. With rehearsals with the zombies as good as they can ever get, he now just needed for the others to give him that last pull up to Thomas’s vision.

A pull he would instigate, not that it would be hard seeing as Thomas was so troubled already. Deceit had not been lying when he said that the ‘court’ decision had caused inner turmoil.

Remus paused in front of the door to the consciousness. It’s innocent look as a front door was marred by the grey expanse around it. A part of Remus knew it would have been faster to sneak through the Imagination and out of Roman’s door. A part of him countered that with the more time he took, the less likely Roman was to wake up and ruin this for him.

The Duke pressed his ear to the door but all he was met with was the hum of the air conditioning. He pulled back and kneeled in front of the welcome mat.

“Please be predictable Patton,” he flipped it over and grinned at the shining key that was hidden under it, “Yes!”

He winced at his own volume and looked at the door ready for it to swing open. The area around him was silent, the kind of silent that wanted to suck him into the deep end of a lava pool.

Slowly, Remus got back to his feet and pushed his ear against the door to make sure nothing had changed. Once again, he was greeted with the steady hum of the air conditioning.

“ _Sneaky time, Remus, sneaky time. Gotta be a ninja.”_

He took a breath and let the key slide into the lock. Momentarily, he was a teenager sneaking back home after visiting his friend. The next, the door swung open and he was witness to a vaguely familiar scene.

Thomas’ apartment had become the new setting for the mindscape, but Remus felt a familiarity that stabbed at his gut. He let the door close behind him quietly as he took in the muted scene in the shadows. The wall of the entrance way was littered with photos. Patton and Logan; Roman and Virgil. Together, separate. All a line of memories that made Remus’ gut swirl in a tornado of feelings that he could not describe.

Remus paused at a larger photo of his brother. His arm was over Virgil’s shoulder. The setting and pose was bitterly familiar. The grumpy expression on his old friend’s face could not disguise the hidden smile Remus had known so well.

A bitterness settled in Remus’ gut. Like he had consumed too much salt all at once and dried out his mouth, preserving himself from the inside out. Like a mummy in the hot sands of the desert or in the dead sea. He felt himself begin to shrivel up into the bitter and cruel emotions that burned within him.

He snatched the picture off the wall without regard for the nail behind it. He let it drop to the ground. The sound of the glass shattering spread throughout the quiet house, but to Remus it just was a buzz of a fly. The creative side stepped onto the glass, frame, and photo as he moved forward into the living space.

He jumped over the back of the couch and looked around at the familiar scene. Without much through, he flopped back into the red beanbag. With a raise of his hand the TV came to life and cast an eerie glow across his face.

The black and white static flickered for a minute before Thomas’ thoughts played out on the screen. Worries in purple that were countered by thoughts in light blue; logical thoughts in dark blue that urged him to go to sleep instead of staring at his phone screen. Yellow sparked up here and there with lies of reassurance that everything would work out. Every once in awhile the screen would flicker to the beginning of a dream that could not fully form with the worries being pushed into Thomas’ head.

A smile twisted onto the Duke’s face. He saw the opening and he was ready to take it. If his brother could not get a dream in, why, it was up to him to help things along.

“I hope I remember how to do this,” he spat onto his hands and rubbed them together before he held them out at the screen. He closed one eye as the other twitched a little as he concentrated.

The DVD player under the tv opened and a green glowing disk appeared on the once empty tray. Remus kept his eyes locked onto the screen as the tray closed with a click and the machine began to hum. The glow traveled up from the player and then encompassed the TV.

Remus closed his eyes tightly as the glow steadily got brighter. His own thoughts began to whirl like multiple trains about to crash into each other.

_“What if I accidently knocked over a candle and set the wedding tent on fire?”  
“What if I pretended to get into a car accident on the way there?”  
“What if I just don’t care anymore? What does it even matter? I can’t do anything for myself?”_

**_“If I died it would just be an inconvenience for someone else.”  
“What is it like to die?”  
“What is it like to kill someone?”_ **

**_“Could I get away with murder?”_ **

Remus’ eyes snapped open with a deep gasp. The pupils were blown as they took in the bright glow of the tv screen in front of him. The thoughts that swarmed across it played out a dark and terrifying nightmare of Thomas’ own devices. For the first time in years, Remus’ own creation broke through. He did not know if he should feel proud or distressed. Happy or horrified.

His hands dropped down to his lap as he watched where his human took the seed he planted. He watched the blood. He stared at the body being dragged. He was silent as images that would make a normal man scream flashed across the screen. The more Thomas tried to push the thoughts away, the wilder they became.

A terrible tango of murder and terror that refused to be ignored. Remus felt like a captive

**“YOU!”**

The distorted voice broke Remus from his trance. His eyes moved away from the bright glow of the screen and looked to the stairs. The green light illuminated every worry line, every wrinkle, and the scowl on Virgil’s face.

A sick part of the duke welcomed the anger and hatred he saw. At least now he had given his former friend a reason to hate him. A reason for leaving. Virgil wanted to believe that he was pure evil, well now he could with justification.

“Me!” Remus stood up with a twisted grin on his face, “I know, I should have written before a surprise visit, but I just couldn’t wait to see you again.”

**“Get out.”**

The hostility in the distorted voice sent a shiver down Remus’ spine but he hid it behind a sharp smile.

“But, Emo, I just got here. We sill have so much to catch up on,” Remus jumped over the couch and did his best to ignore the way his old friend flinched back.

Instead he moved to the broken picture on the ground and shook off the shards of glass, “Like how buddy-buddy you are with Prince Poop-face, Daddy, and Teach. Nice little family you made yourself. **Still, they can’t hide you away from your past, can they?”**

**“Shut up!”**

“Shut up? Me, shut up? Have you really forgotten who I am?” Remus dropped the picture again and faced Virgil. A wicked gleam in his eyes, “I am the person you replaced in this perfect little family.”

Virgil’s hands balled up into fists, but Remus continued to talk.

“You know it is true or did you just forget the little home you left down there with us. Doesn’t matter if you were the one to care for Dee-Dee or if you were ready to tear these loser’s limbs off for me. Now you just want their acceptance even if that means you change everything that you actually are.”

Virgil’s eyes were alit with rage as he moved towards the duke. Behind that rage, Remus could see a flash of fear. Fear of what, the duke could not pinpoint with the limited amount of time he had before a sock of pain raced through his skull.

The punch landed perfectly on his lower jaw and made his teeth clack together. The familiar taste of iron flooded his senses as his head hit the wall. The euphoria the pain gave him brought a laugh out of the duke even as hands curled around the collar of his shirt and he was held against the wall.

“ **Stop laughing!”**

“But you just tickle my funny boner,” Remus looked at his old friend with a dazed expression, “I always suspected you liked it _rough._ ”

Virgil’s response, whether hit or verbal, was cut off by the rushing of footsteps coming down the stairs.

“Virgil! I don’t know what to do! Thomas is having these bad thoughts and I can’t stop them! He won’t answer any of my question-AH!”

Patton rounded the corner and both sides stared at him with two extreme expressions. Remus’ eyes were wide in shock despite the bloody grin he had on his face. Virgil’s was of fear and shame as he held Remus but the ridiculous collar of his tunic.

Remus was the one that dared to break the thick silence that had encompassed the house.

“Daddy, I’m home.”

“Shut up,” Virgil pushed Remus as he let go of the duke. A few pictures hung on the wall fell at the hidden force behind the action.

“What…why is he here?” Patton’s voice shook as he spoke.

“I don’t know, Pat, but as soon as he fixes whatever he did to Thomas the sooner he can leave.”

Remus gasped and put a hand on his chest, “Me? Do something to Tomas? No, no, no, no, you got it all wrong. All this is Thomas, I just simply helped him bring these thoughts to the forefront.”

**“Don’t lie to me, you little-.”**

Remus took a small step back as Virgil lunged at him. Patton caught his arm before he could throw another punch.

“You know better then anyone that I don’t lie,” Remus scoffed. He refused to acknowledge the anger and fear in both the sides’ eyes as they stared at him.

“But, if you aren’t lying…then…” Patton looked at the tv screen nervously, “Does that mean Thomas is a bad person?”

“No, he has to be lying. Thomas would not come up with all this on his own.”

Remus scoffed, “Then what is the answer, oh wise and all-knowing Anxiety? Please, answer the question.”

“You did this!” The accusing finger pointed at Remus.

“And I am a part of Thomas. Try again.”

Remus was nearly amused by the expression that passed over Virgil’s face. The way his eyes lit up with a rage to hide the fear that was truly behind the emotions. He could feel Virgil’s resolve to come up with excuses making the thoughts replay stronger.

“Maybe we should ask Thomas?” Patton spoke hesitantly, “He…he has to know what is going on. They are his thoughts.”

“And what about him? We can’t have him roaming around, what if he hurts someone?”

Virgil’s worry only made Remus roll his eyes, “Oh, please, Virgil. You worry too much, as if I want to stay in your boring, happy home. I came back for nostalgia, but I forgot how much the past **hurts.** ”

With the final comment, he turned on his heel and allowed himself back out into the void between the two homes. Now he just had to wait. If everything went well, he should be meeting up with Thomas very soon.

*

*

*

Remus giggled to himself as he was left alone in Thomas’ bedroom as he lazily chewed on his ‘deodorant’. The morning had been entertaining. There was something energizing about being around Thomas, for his human to actually see him. Sure the seeing was usually with a dumbfounded or annoyed expression, but it was the acknowledgement he craved.

Now, with said acknowledgement and human gone, he was left with just his thoughts. After the video yesterday, he had hidden away in the unconscious with Deceit. A celebration that was slightly marred by the unknown. What would this mean for him? He had never been allowed in the limelight and now thousands of eyes would be watching for him.

He rubbed his jaw where he had been hit two nights before. It had healed at a fast rate but there was still the phantom pain. Along with it was the memory of Virgil’s anger now combined with the soft smile he had pulled from his former friend. He wanted to believe that smile meant that Virgil did not hate him as much as he claimed to.

“What are you doing here?”

On the other hand, there was one side he knew without a doubt hated him. 

Remus turned and looked at his brother with a grin that hid his fear easily. Roman’s glare and guarded expression were enough to set off some warning bells. Remus’ hand twitched to summon his Morning Star. To have some weapon to defend himself.

“Oh, you know, enjoying the outside air. Was playing the ‘how many places can I hide’ game with Thomas but he went to record something,” Remus replied flippantly as he took another bite from his ‘deodorant.’

“That’s all?”

Remus nodded, “I am not _always_ up to a scheme, Ro-boat.”

“Don’t call me that and even if you are not scheming, you shouldn’t be out here.”

Remus stood straighter, “Why not? Thomas didn’t seem to mind. I would even think he is warming up to me. I say by next year, we are going to be working together. Just like old times.”

“Is that a threat?”

Remus tilted his head to the side, “No. It’s just wishful thinking that maybe we can make things work.”

The words were hesitant. A vulnerability that Remus hid behind deranged smiles came out in that one moment. He wished he could read his twin’s expression but after so long apart it was a language he no longer knew fluently.

“You…you really think that I will just let you back into my life after what you did? You tried to kill me and then disappeared with those villains-.”

“A ‘villain’ that you now have as a housemate!”

“That is different!” Roman shouted.

“Is it really? Or are you just replacing me with him? A calmer but still darker brother that is much better then me!” Remus felt tears start to pool in his eyes but held them back, “Look, I’m sorry for what I did! I never wanted to hurt you. It’s like you said, I never think. I never think and someone gets hurt and that time it was you! And I’m sorry, I have been sorry for years.”

Roman took a step back and Remus tried to follow. The attempt was met with a sword pointed at his chest. A blank expression on the prince’s face that scarily matched Remus’ nightmares. The only thing that made this reality instead of a dream was the bedroom around them.

“I have waited years for you to say sorry,” Roman’s voice was low, “I thought that it was my fault somehow. Then you never came back, and I realized, no, this is just what you are. This was going to happen someday. Now you are here, trying to come back into my life with a sorry. You’re too late, Remus.”

Remus looked down at the sword pointed at his chest. He wanted to run into it, so it stabbed through him. Let his brother have the revenge he knew he desired while also giving himself the peace he craved. Yes, Deceit would be mad at him for doing such a thing but at least Roman would be happy.

“I know,” Remus sighed, “Was worth a try to lessen the revenge.”

“What are you-?”

“Roman!”

The twin’s head snapped in sync to look at the doorway just as Thomas moved between them and pushed the sword to point at the floor. He looked over Roman and then Remus. If Remus was hopeful at the moment, he would almost think the human was looking for injury. That he was worried about both of them.

“What have a told you about pointing your sword at people?” Thomas addressed the prince.

“Don’t, but this is different!”

“Yes, it is, he is your brother. That is extra bad!”

“He hit me with his morning star yesterday!” Roman countered with a pout.

Remus did not wait to hear the response. He knew that it was only a matter of time before Thomas turned his lecturing on him. So he took the opportunity to sink out back to his room and sat down on the bed.

“Well, that could have gone better.”

*

*

*

Remus felt more alone then ever. He thought, now that Thomas could see him, that everything would be alright. That he could go between the two homes, even fix things with the sides he did not try to choke to death. Instead, he found himself lost in the shadows.

Trips to the kitchen were met with Parron’s offerings for a meal that he had a feeling he should turn down. Logan mostly ignored the questions he tried to ask him, so Remus’ curiosity was never sated. Despite what Virgil said, he now hid from Remus completely. Any glance of the purple side was met with his former friend disappearing fast. Roman was the opposite, he made sure he was always around a friend as if to protect them from the lonely Duke

Deceit was trying to raise his spirits. He claimed it was the same way whenever he went up there, but Remus had been watching. The interactions were different. Virgil would be the one glaring, Patton’s interactions were the same, but Roman would smile happily at the snake side’s appearance. Logan would engage in conversation. Two out of four wanted Deceit around, which was more then Remus could claim.

It was painful to witness. Which was why the past few weeks he had made himself at home in the theater. With Thomas between shows, Remus had made himself comfortable without the fear of being passive aggressively evicted from the space he loved. It had been years since he had a proper stage and he planned on taking every second he could to make up for it.

“Freeze your brain!  
Shatter your skull  
Fight pain with more pain.  
Forget who you are,  
Unburden your load;  
Forget in six weeks you'll be back on  
The road!”

His voice echoed through the empty theater seats. This wish of the long jacket from the costume swished behind him at his dramatic movements. He may have not been physically present at the performance, but Remus was there helping with the character every step of the way.

“When the voice in your head  
Says you're better off dead  
Don't open a vein!  
Just freeze your brain!  
Freeze your brain.  
Go on and freeze your brain.”

Remus took a breath as the song started to fade towards the end. He did not finish the song with the typical line. He let the last note echo through the hall and then slowly fade back into silence. There was no applause. He could have made an audience to witness his performance, but they were not who he truly wanted in the seats.

He moved slowly to the edge of the stage. The eerie silence that replaced the note moved him to sit on the edge with his legs dangling into the orchestra pit. The dim light of the theater slowly got darker as the stage lights flicked off one by one.

The ghost light appeared in the center of the stage and illuminated Remus’ back as he continued to stare out at the dark scene. At this point he would usually leave. He would tell Deceit he was fine, go into his room, and maybe make a painting or eat an old sandwich. Sometimes make a painting with his sandwich.

He did not feel like moving. The Duke laid back on the stage with a thunk and stared up at the catwalk with a blank expression. Unmoving he resembled the corpses he sometimes made and threw into Roman’s moat for kicks.

A slow blink and a small idea began to worm into his mind. A whisper of a call to once again climb high. To climb up, up, up and then crash down back to the earth like Lucifer falling from Heaven.

“But how redundant would that be?” He countered the thoughts, “There is a reason I haven’t done it in ages. No more fun things to go with that.”

Still the itch pushed on like a roaring tsunami. Alone in this silence, all he could do was think.

_“I should leave before I do something.”_

**_“But why should I deny what I am?”_ **

_“Dee would be mad at me.”_

**_“He has new friends to care for him.”_ **

_“I don’t actually want to die. I don’t need their approval.”_

**_“It’s just an experiment. Out of all the methods, we have neglected this one. It’s like a fall with a twist.”_ **

Remus hummed in thought as he rolled to the side. His eyes taken off the catwalk for a moment and he felt some of the pull clear. He knew he should leave, go talk to Dee, and maybe even skip the painting and watch a scary movie. He knew what he should do, but he felt himself pulled towards backstage.

The dimness of the ghost light barely permeated the darkness behind the curtains, but it did not stop him from finding the ladder. Practiced hands pulled him up quickly and moved along the catwalk so he stood above the middle of the stage. 

There was something comforting with being up high. A freedom to see everything without directly interacting with it. A power of holding something close to the edge, whether it be a life or an expensive violin. He held a foot out over the edge and felt a sense of déjà vu flood through him. He felt small again, just sixteen, as he stood on top of a skyscraper and acted on a thought he normally would have repressed.

The moment everything in his life went wrong yet the moment he felt the most like himself.

“Man, I am becoming a sap,” he laughed as he moved to sit down on the edge. Both feet kicked back and forth as he looked around the dark space. A sad smile on his face as he spotted what he needed. A rope was coiled up next to him.

Practiced hands picked up the end and began to tie it in a knot. He had practiced this but always thought that this method was overrated, cliché, and even boring. Compared to fire or implosion or pavement diving, who could blame him.

But there was a reason that it was the most popular.

“Can’t go wrong with the classics,” he pulled the noose taunt and nodded to himself. The other end of the rope was tied tightly to the edge of the catwalk.

His hands were steady as he slipped the loop over his head. The tiniest voice wanted someone to walk in and find him, but that voice he had long learned how to ignore. Instead he thought about what Deceit would make for dinner. Probably some spaghetti or waffles if Remus begged long enough.

Hopefully the wake-up time would be the same as street diving.

He stood up and once more hung a foot over the edge. Something tight circled around his gut. There was no wind. There was no street below him. All he could see when he looked down was the dim ghost light and a pool of darkness.

He took a breath and tilted forward.

The rush of the wind was a familiar sound to Remus; one he had not heard in a long time. He would have laughed if the dive did not stop so abruptly. The world went black before he could hear the crack of his neck echo through the empty hall.

*

*

*

Remus came back with a gasp for air that was met with a weak, strangled cough. His hands grasped at the rope around his neck to try and get some relief so his brain could remember what had occurred. Threads from the scratchy rope stuck to the frayed ends of his fingernails as he desperately gasped for air. The small relief that pulling himself up gave him would only last a few minutes according to have much his arms were shaking from the strain.

“Shit,” the memories came back in a blur and regret stumbled it’s way into his life once more.

He knew that his feet would not find any purchase even as he kicked around. He was too far away from the walls and had not thought the action through so there was no chair, table, or stool nearby.

“Stupid. Stupid. Stupid,” tears pricked at the corner of his eyes but blinked them back. He did not get to cry; this was his fault.

_“What did I think would happen? I could magically get back up and free myself?”_

The burn in his arms was fast approaching. The weakness of revival a hinderance to his survival post-mortem. He thought about summoning something sharp but that would require him to rely on one arm to hold him up. He could try to summon something to cut the rope for him but the strain of just keeping himself breathing told him he did not have the energy to do so.

_“Dee is going to kill me for this. Bring me back and kill me again.”_

A whimper escaped him as his arms grip let go enough for his throat to rest once more against the scratchy rope. Every swallow or breath he took scratched against the rough surface. He could not hold on much longer.

He wanted to scream out for help, but he doubted anyone would care to come. Or that anyone would hear him; the theater was so far away from everyone’s rooms. A realization hit him just as his hands lost their grip on the rope. His air taken away one more as he hung by his neck.

How many times would he die here before someone found him?

Remus kicked his legs uselessly as dark spots started to dance in his vision. His unrecovered body struggled to stay awake; to find some ground to push the pressure off his throat. The death dance of a hanged man came to a slow stop as the energy slowly left him and he once again welcomed the darkness.

*

*

*

Remus opened his eyes to another jolt of desperately needed air but this time his hands only moved up to grasp at the rope around his neck. Numb fingers clawed at the threads but could not pull up his weight like he wanted. Inside his boots, his toes felt cold. He doubted much blood was properly circulating.

He kicked uselessly for a few seconds before he let himself hang there. The movements caused him to swing back and forth slowly. Tears streamed down his face at the burning pain in his chest as it called for some relief. It reminded him drowning only here there was no water to suck in; he was so close to the air he needed and yet unable to get it.

_“How long have I been gone?”_

The darkness came closer and closer with every gasp for air. Shapes danced in the corner of his eyes but he could not identify them.

_“A day? A week? A month?”_

His eyes closed as his heart began to slow down.

_“How much longer until I stop coming back?”_

*

*

*

Remus hated Roman. He hated his stupid twin brother with his stupid theater that he never came into. At least if he used it regularly this would never have happened. Remus would have never stepped into the place if he knew his brother would be there on the daily. This was Roman’s fault.

Remus’ chest burned with both the need for oxygen and hatred for the side he was supposed to be closest to. His arms had lost feeling at revival number six so there was no use in trying to hold his neck off the rope that suspended him above the stage.

**_“Roman probably knows and is off celebrating my death. A big party to celebrate the evil being defeated.”_ **

Remus watched with dead eyes as the nightmare form of his brother, the teenaged prince he let kill him in countless dreams, wandered close to the hanging body. The creature was expressionless even as blood splattered the stage’s floor, but Remus knew it was happy to see such a sight.

“R-ro…” he tried to say the name, but it only scratched the rope more at his neck. The little air he had being used on a figment of his imagination. 

_“Would Roman even cared if I died? Disappeared forever?”_

Tears that Remus had no strength to hold back fell as the nightmare copy of his twin became just another dark spot in shadows of the stage.

_“Bet it would be better if I did.”_

Remus’ eyes rolled to the back of his head as his heart stopped beating once more.

*

*

*

Remus could not feel anything below his neck. A tiny part of him wondered if his limbs would shrivel up and begin to fall off. Be eaten by the shadow snakes that were scattered on the stage below his feet. Their piercing yellow eyes glared up at him as if angry he had not fallen down and allowed them to feed.

_“Oh Dee, I hope you aren’t too worried.”_

He knew his friend would be, but he had others to watch out for him now. Remus was just holding him back; he saw that now. Without the need to hide or care for Remus, maybe the snake side would open up to the others. At least the ones that seemed to like him.

He wanted to make Deceit smile, but all he had done was make him miserable. Miserable with the secret, with his stories, and with just being himself. Once his friend got over his disappearance, he would be happier.

Remus believed it so it must be true.

*

*

*

Remus had always liked Logan even if Logan never liked him.

As he swung above the stage he thought about the logical side. He had so many questions he wanted to ask.

_Why didn’t you come on the boat ride?_

_What bones did I break while falling?_

_How long can a person go without breathing?_

_What are the symptoms of oxygen deprivation?_

_Why is it called a ghost light?_

So many questions that Logan would have answered him patiently a long time ago. Now the side hated him, for what exactly he did not know. He thought that the two were getting along in the court room, but he was never good at reading people.

He tried to move a toe but felt nothing. Everything was numb and cold. The glow of the ghost light below him seemed to be a beckoning call from the beyond. He so desperately wished he could slip down into that golden light.

How easy would it be to stay forever away from the burning pain in his chest? Away from the hate he knew the others felt. No more bad creativity, just like Patton wanted.

Patton.

The name left a sour taste on his dried-out tongue. He never got to find out what he had done so wrong to make the side dislike him so much. If it was because of what he was, then that was no excuse. He didn’t ask to be made. Patton had wanted them separated and then did not like the results.

If Patton found him it would be a charade of worry. A worry that made the moral side feel better about his actions once he saw the consequences of never giving him the time of day.

All Remus wanted was the safe attention Roman got. He did everything he could to be loved. He didn’t speak out of turn, he kept his thoughts to himself, he drew pictures and sang songs. All of that and he just seemed to be an annoyance.

Maybe he was actually an annoyance to everyone. Maybe Patton was right to dislike him.

*

*

*

In the quiet moments of his endless torture he would try to have his thoughts avoid the case of Virgil. Every time he did, though, they would come back with a vengeance. His jaw would throb where he had been punched, a whimper would escape his swollen throat, and he just wished he could figure out what he had done so wrong.

The pranks? The beheading? The constant need to have late night chats? Did his friend hate him suddenly because he liked strawberry jam mor then grape?

The moments of awareness were sometimes taken to analyzing the night Virgil left over and over again. From every angle but he could not piece together where the hatred had come from. He had been so careful to give Virgil his space when he started to become more anxious that he had no leads.

He wanted to say sorry so badly, for whatever he did, but with the ache of a punch on his jaw. The anger in his brother’s eyes for an apology fresh in his mind. He knew, deep in his gut, that Virgil would never forgive him for what he did. Whatever he did.

Remus felt consciousness leave him once more. A promise for peace in the void before he once again struggled for breath. He took the invitation gladly so he could once again hide from the thoughts that plagued him.

*

*

*

Remus jolted awake with a desperate gasp for air that was met with nearly nothing. His body, too numb and weak to move, only alarmed him more before he remembered where he was. Hung in the theater like a suicidal star on an old Hollywood set.

He had lost count of how many times he had died and revived on this stage, but he knew it was a lot. Time had lost meaning now. Only his thoughts, the hallucinations, and the ghost light were constants that kept him grounded…or floating.

A weak smile appeared on his face at the joke, but it faded fast as the familiar burn in his chest started up. The need for air was something he did not think he would get used to. He just wished his body would give up.

He had resigned himself to the fact that he had messed up and this was his fate until Thomas’ natural death at the age of a hundred.

_“ **If would be full of fake worry if they found me. They don’t actually care.** ”_

Remus let his eyes fall closed as he waited for the suffocation to once again take effect. He felt the dizziness wash over him and his heartbeats’ become irregular. Soon he would be back into the void and hopefully this time it would take.

*

*

*

Remus gasped for air as he once again came back to the land of the living. His brain scrambled for both oxygen and an answer to what had happened; a momentary lapse of memory brought him into whatever full consciousness was at this point. The answers were pulled up to the surface with great reluctance, but the half-dead side found an inconsistency with the memories.

The stage was still empty except for the ghost light which should have been shining as a tiny beacon to Hell. Instead it was off and the lights of the theater itself were on.

His oxygen deprived brain looked down at the off light with more confusion when it disappeared as if on cue to the footsteps getting closer to the stage. Was this an in-between nightmare? Would he be found only to wake up back up without a breath of air to save him?

“I don’t understand why you need me participating in this,” someone said from the theater below.

Remus wished he had jumped facing the curtain so he could put a name to a face. He knew that voice, a distant memory that was sluggishly being pulled to the forefront of his mind. Someone he called boring but found entertaining, blue, kind of sexy in a nerdy way.

The hanged man jolted when he saw a shadow spread over the stage below him. A name popping into his head when he watched the shadow reach to adjust something around his neck.

Logan. Nerdy, serious no-show teacher.

Logan could help. Logan was literally logical thought; he would be able to help him regain feeling and send him off. This could possibly be pushed into the ‘emotional’ category and thus Remus could wiggle his way out of everyone knowing. He just needed to get the teacher’s attention and he was home fre-.

The thought stopped abruptly when a familiar voice broke through the relief and sent ice down his spine. His oxygen deprived mind did not have to connect old memories to know who else was close enough to discover his dirty little secret.

“Because Thomas has just gotten a new part! There is no time like the present to start practicing, and who better to help then Thomas’ literal memory?”

Roman.

Roman was the last person that needed to see this. His brother already hated him; he did not want some fake concern. Nor did he want to face a reality where Roman complained about him acting over dramatic **_while he dangled helplessly above his brother’s cold eyes. The life draining as Roman smiled maliciously in a sick joy from seeing his greatest enemy felled by his own stupidity._**

His heart pounded harder then he had since the first few cycles of revival. He screamed internally for his arms to move; for them to somehow gain the strength to pull him up and climb back onto the catwalk. It did not matter that it had not worked when he still had strength and energy, he just needed to get away. Crawl back into the hole he had hid in for the past 12 or so years.

Remus’ arms stayed useless at his sides. He could not turn his head to look at them. He imagined that they were probably shriveled up into nothingness from the lack of blood flow and use.

His eyes were stuck staring down at his boots and the stage below them.

Logan now stood at center stage where the ghost light had been for so many cycles. A mocking light for something beyond that Remus could not achieve now replaced with a terrible possibility of being seen.

Being seen and being mocked, scorned, and ratted out. **_For them to leave him to the fate he deserved, where he could do no more harm._**

Remus blinked. That was a new thought. He was not sure if he liked it or not; or where it had come from.

The dark dots of temporary peace had begun to creep into the scene below him.

Logan’s mouth moved but the buzz in Remus’ ear either blocked the noise or it was a comment said under the man’s breath. Either way it was followed by Roman appearing into Remus’ view, holding a script with one hand and talking with the other.

Another script appeared with a twirl of the prince’s fingers and was clumsily caught by Logan.

“So I was thinking we could just run through Thomas’ parts. Meaning you are everyone else and I am the loving Prince Adam.”

“You mean the Beast?”

Roman waved his hand, “Details, he is still a prince under all that fur. He just needs some attitude adjustment.”

The script in Roman’s hand flipped became a white blur along with the prince himself. Remus’ vision swung in and out as his desperate wheezes were no longer a concern to hide. The survival part of his brain was screaming for him to do something to get air despite his memories saying he could no nothing.

His body only weakly moved; limbs too numb to do anything near the death dance he once performed.

Remus closed his eyes tightly as a wave of dizziness and panic raced through him. He felt both hot and cold at once, a sign he would soon rejoin the peace of the void.

“I know how a script reading works. Can we just get this through so I can attend to Thomas’ other needs?” Logan’s voice sounded so much further away then just a few feet below him.

He opened his eyes to look from some miracle that would get him out of this situation only for them to lock onto the slightly blurred form of Logan Sanders. A Logan Sanders’ who’s gaze met his directly head on.

A new panic curled into Remus’ gut as he held the gaze. He could not hide or make the other forget what he was looking at, there was nothing that the Duke could do now. Not with how Logan stared at him in fear nor with how his vision was slowly being consumed.

The conversation below went in and out like the waves of a beach. Crashing into him and pulling back so the volume was far away.

“Alright, snippy,” Roman said, “Now-.”

“Roman.”

“We are skipping the first parts because I am not in them-.”

“Roman, I think-.”

“And we can begin at the castle as Belle moves to save her father-.”

“Roman, I need you to-.”

“And then I come in and we worked from ther-.”

“ROMAN!”

The shout was enough to pull Remus back for another second. His eyes opened to look down just in time to see the black and blue blob move towards the white and red one. He watched them confused and slightly intrigued about what they were doing.

 _“What kind of dreams are these?”_ He wondered.

The darker blob, a human probably, moved forward and forcefully turned the other’s head upwards in the duke’s direction. Despite the fuzziness of the world around him the scared and horrified gaze of his person stabbed the dying man’s core. He just did not have the time to figure out why.

Remus’ eyes rolled to the back of his head just as a high-pitched scream echoed around the theater.

Muffled words were being shouted below him, but it felt as if he was underwater. Everything was muted and wavy. Were the words directed at him or someone else? Was that laughter or crying? All he knew was that he was fading out again, only this time with an audience.

Probably to once again wake up hung by his neck. A weak breath escaped his lips.

Then his body gasped for air as the pressure around his throat was suddenly gone. Wind whistled around him as his body began to fall, a familiar act that would at least be much quicker than the slow suffocation.

“I got him!” The words were shouted below him.

His body crashed into something that was not the hard-wooden stage. A pained wheeze left him as both toppled over into his expected destination. The groan from his new cushion replaced the ‘thing’ as a person. A person that shifted to sit up and hold Remus on their lap.

“Oh Thomas, Remus, what did you do?” A worried voice spoke over him as he felt a hand move the hair from his face.

Remus tried to open his eyes or think of a quip, but all he could think about was the burning in his lungs and every wheezing breath that held him in consciousness a little longer. Whatever happened now did not matter as long as he never got strung up there again.

“Roman, … worried, but I need… carry him to a proper … examine him. His nature … not prevent the … damaged something…”

The waves of consciousness pushed and pulled the words said over him. He only jumped a little when he suddenly felt himself being lifted off the ground and held close to the cushion-person’s chest. His ear rested right over their heart as he felt them begin to move at a fast pace.

He let his mind focus on breathing and the rhythm of the heartbeat. A tempo that promised him safety and protection; lured him away from the panicked thoughts that wanted to come up to the surface.

_One, two, three. One, two, three._


	8. Found

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Remus is found but that does not mean he is out of the woods yet. He has a lot to catch up on and realizations to make.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this was supposed to come out on Remus' birthday. Let me give you a run down on what happened:
> 
> -Depression  
> -Flashdrive broke in half when I was halfway done with the chapter  
> -Mother went into respiratory failure and was hospitalized for a week  
> -More Depression and Anxiety
> 
> And here we are. Chapter 8 3.0 because of all that happened. I'm sorry for the wait and that I am extending this fic to another 1-2 chapters. This one got super long, but the next should be done before August is over. At most the first week or so of September.

** Found **

_Funny when you're dead how people start listenin'_

The world around him moved in slow motion. A weird molasses had seemed to encase his brain in its sticky grasp. He wondered if he was even alive anymore seeing as the world was blurred and sounds seemed far away. Like someone was talking to him underwater and he had to try and interpret what the words in the bubbles were saying.

What he could be sure of was the pain that wracked his entire body down to the tips of his toes. Every breath he took was a painful wheeze that made it sound like he had swallowed a harmonica, again. Thinking about it more, it felt like the harmonica incident too. The scratch, the burning feeling, and the terrible deep coughs that tried to push an obstruction out. The very same coughs that only made him more winded and wheezier.

The most Remus could do without being wracked with terrible pain was stare blankly and listen to his rattling breath. It was the option that he chose to do at the moment.

He stared glassy eyed at the red that was pressed close to his face, mentally counting the heartbeats under his ear. The cool satin of the material a contrast to the burning pain he felt in his body. The blood had begun to move once more to fill the unused limbs he had been sure had fallen off long ago. It hurt, it hurt so bad.

It hurt more then porcupine slippers. It hurt more then a witch burning. It hurt more than a Lego block walk.

He wanted to cry out with every movement his body made, no matter how small. The sound was caught by the metaphorical harmonica and sent him into a coughing fit. It would leave him winded, dizzy, and with an aching chest as he was moved as a speed a little too fast for his liking.

Bright light broke his dead gaze onto the red that he was rested against. A weak whine escaped him as he tried to hide in the cool satin. His body rebelled against him at the sound and movement, sending him into another round of coughs. His head had begun to ache from the constant coughs.

“Put him on the bed gently,” someone said.

The grip on him did the opposite of the request. Arms tightened around his form and sent his nerves on fire. A weak moan of pain made the pressure disappear as quickly as it began. Hesitant arms rested him down onto a soft surface. It would have been nice if it did not feel like a bed of nails.

“Why can’t he breathe? Shouldn’t he be able to breathe now? Why does he sound like that?”

The rushed questions floated in and out of him as the roaring wave of pain tried to overtake him. The comfort of red was not replaced with a bland white of the ceiling. That color overtaken by black and blue as someone leaned over him.

“I am unsure, but I must ask you to step outside.”

“What!?! No way!”

Someone cut through his sleeve on his left arm and the cloth was pulled away. The simple movement brought out a whimper from the mute Duke. Remus wanted to flinch away as cold hands touched the newly awakening limb, but they still would not listen to his commands and he was left helpless to the touch. Something cold and wet touched his inner elbow.

“Roman, please, you are too emotionally involved with this. Step outside, inform the others if that will keep you calm.”

 _“Don’t go,”_ Remus wanted to plead. He wanted the comfort of the red, the safety of the heartbeat. He wanted his…his brother. As much as Roman hated him, he wanted Roman to stay, but he couldn’t say that.

Whatever protest Roman made at the suggestion Remus did not hear. All he felt was the shocking pain as something stabbed into his inner arm. The blurry world around him danced with black spots but did not consume him immediately. The shock sent him into a round of coughing that had him gasping desperately for air. Any air.

_He just wanted to breathe._

_The rope was pressed painfully against him. He couldn’t move his arms to relieve the pressure._

**_A constant loops where he was stuck here. Slowly suffocating. Slowly dying. No one cared._ **

**_He couldn’t breathe. He needs to breathe. Why can’t he breathe?_ **

Remus wanted to scratch at his throat. To pull away the obstruction that caused him so much pain for so long. His limbs gave no indication that they wanted to listen to such a command, just like all the attempts before.

The panic made the darkness cloud his vision assisted with something that made his muscles stop aching. His panicked breathes began to slow as his body was forced to relax. Tears dropped from his eyes as he let them fall closed.

He knew when he opened his eyes he would be right back where he started. Hung above the stage like a tangled and forgotten puppet. He just wished that it weren’t true. That this hallucination of bright white ceiling and someone talking above him was real.

*

*

*

Remus woke up slowly, something that he had not done in a very long time. Usually it was a jerked reaction of a body coming to consciousness because of a lack of air. Now it was a gentle flutter of his eyes as his lungs contracted and expanded evenly. He moved a hand up to rub the sleep from his eyes, finding it came away smudged from the old eyeshadow.

He did not think anything of it, until the ache started to spread across his body. Until the memories along with it came flooding back.

He instantly became more aware. He moved the right arm again to look at it in surprise to find it listening to his command. His fingers till tingled and the ring finger felt numb on the tip, but the fact was that it was moving. His hand was moving.

The first thing he did with that knowledge it move it down to his neck. There was no rough rope, nothing sticky like blood. Only a material he could not see wrapped securely but not tightly around his throat where the rope had been for so long. Now air moved freely in a way he had never been so aware of.

He let his hand drop back onto the thing blanket as he glanced around the room.

It was rather plain. The lights above were dimmed down which helped with his small headache. Next to his left side was an I.V. drip which explained the ache in his left arm. He let the idea of violently ripping it out pass through his brain before he continued his observations.

Next to the I.V. was a machine that seemed to be attached to a long tube. He followed the tube with his eyes to find it stopped at his mouth. The he became aware of the dryness of his mouth and the weird feeling of something down his throat. His tired brain slowly clicked things into place. This machine was breathing for him.

_“Oh.”_

That was worrisome. If he had the energy, he would be more into the ideas of pushing the tube further down to see if he could hit his lungs. Instead he just glared to his right at the machine that was beeping. The heart monitor was not a comforting beeping noise, it was an annoyance. It was not a necessary thing either.

Thinking about it, none of this was necessary. He had healed himself through so much more. A few naps on the pavement or on the sand of a beach, then he would be good to go. All of this medical care mattered very little in his healing time. Deceit had not even gone this far when he had blown his brains out.

He winced at the memory. He shouldn’t joke about that. Guilt was starting to settle in his stomach as he focused once more on the machine that made the annoying beep.

Remus tried to will it out of existence but the machine merely flickered. His strength was not fully up to par with what it should be, but it did accomplish his task of making the beeping stop. The screen now was off, most likely unplugged. It left him with only the sound of the ventilator and the air conditioning.

Alone with his thoughts.

He stretched his legs and curled his toes. The needle feeling of half-asleep limbs was not as intense as it had been when he was first brought here. It had dulled down but the blood flow was not completely settled back it normal it seemed. Probably would take a few more naps and a lot of aspirin.

For now, without the power to disappear and summon, he was stuck at the mercy of the guilt-ridden sides until Deceit came to get him. If Deceit came to get him.

Remus did not have the time to let that thought boil in his mind as the door was thrown open with a bang. He did not get a good look at the sudden intruder as the lights were thrown on and blinded him. He made of noise of protest around the tube and covered his eyes. The sudden assault on his eyes was not welcome, thank you very much. He was already mute he didn’t need to be blind too.

He blinked rapidly behind his hands and flipped off whomever had come into the room and ruined his self-loathing.

“It is just unplugged,” a breathless voice said to his left. So he had flipped off an empty doorway, great.

A few more blinks and Remus moved his hands from his eyes to glare darkly at the person next to him. The glare turned to a confused gaze at the sight of the usually so put together logical side in a white unicorn onesie.

_“Maybe this is a hallucination.”_

The beeping returned as the side pushed the plug back into the wall. The annoyed glare returned to the silenced duke as Logan got back to his feet. Then dark blue eyes caught Remus’, filled with both relief and mortification. If Remus were not so annoyed and emotionally charged, he would be planning on how to hang this over Logic’s head.

Remus moved his glare to the heart monitor, and it flickered again. Once again, the beeping stopped as the machine became unplugged.

Logan sighed and moved to plug it back in, “Remus, as much as I am relieved you are awake, you cannot just unplug this. I need it to monitor your condition.”

When Logan stood back up, he was now in his normal attire.

Remus response was to make the machine unplug itself again. The small amount of rebellion felt good but did tire him out. He did not have the energy to pull the same stunt as Logan once again got down and plugged it back in.

_“You win this time, Logic.”_

Remus rolled his eyes and moved his head to the right as far as he could. Logan had done what he came in for, so he would leave and go back to bed. Not like he could be a courteous host and walk him to the door or bid him a heartfelt goodbye.

Instead he felt cool hands moving so he was once laid with his head faced forward. Logan was looking at him with a critical gaze.

“It is best if you continue to face forward so not to tangle the tube.”

Remus just blinked. He wanted to ask if any of this was necessary. Or why the logical side was helping him if he didn’t ‘care’ as it was an emotion. He certainly showed he didn’t care how every long ago the court room scene was, so why bother now?

“Are you up with asking some yes and no questions, Remus? All you need to do is give a thumbs up or down. If that is too much, the alternative is blinking with one being yes and two being no.”

Remus scrunched up his nose at the thought of being asked questions. The animalistic part of himself wanted to say no. To keep the secret hidden like the hidden treasure he had held onto for so long. The rest of him knew that this treasure was already gone. The hoard had been pillaged, and if they had told Deceit and the snake side would be able to tell them everything he knew.

He had nothing to hide. Remus never was good at hiding things anyway.

He gave a small thumbs up for Logan, looking over the logical side’s shoulder.

“Thank you. We will start simple to see if there is any brain damage from the oxygen deprivation,” Logan sat down on a chair that appeared next to the bed. A clipboard now in his hands.

“Is your name Remus Creativity Sanders?”

Remus gave a thumbs up.

“Are you thirty years old?”

Another thumbs up.

“Do you know today’s date?”

Remus frowned the best he could. He was not even sure how long he had been hung up above the stage. He gave a thumbs down and Logan jotted that down.

“Do you know how long you were in that condition?”

Another thumbs down. Remus shifted in the bed at the look Logan gave him. His heart rate picked up on the monitor.

“Was this premeditated?”

Remus gave the nerd a confused look and Logan sighed.

“Did you have a plan when you went up onto the catwalk?”

Remus gave a thumbs down. It had all just happened, a thought he acted on without thinking. Like always. Logan wrote this down.

“Have you attempted before?”

The question threw Remus for a small loop. If they had talked to Deceit, then they would know that this was not the first time he had done a dumb thing that got himself killed. Was it possible that they had not? Or maybe Logan wanted to hear the truth from him and wanted him to fess up.

He tried to gage what Logan wanted to see as an answer but all he got was a blank expression. A pen patiently waiting for the answer. Remus’ heartrate went up much faster before he could even give an answer. That seemed to be the answer Logan was looking for as he wrote something down.

Remus looked away. He didn’t want to play twenty questions anymore.

“Do you wish to stop?”

Remus gave a fast thumbs up and closed his eyes tightly.

“Alright but do answer this. Do you feel sore?”

Remus’ eyes relaxed as he thought through the question before he gave the side a small thumbs up. The ache in his head and chest were slowly spreading. It was a dull ache that promised a lot more if he did not get something to sooth it in his system.

He heard the clipboard being sat down and the chair moving as the logical side stood up. He listened as the side moved around the room before he felt a small tug as the I.V. was moved. A few seconds later, Logan sat back down.

“You should feel some relief in a few minutes. I added some more painkillers.”

Remus glanced back over at Logan. He could feel that the side was holding something back from him. That he wanted to say something. The evidence was clear from how Logan moved his lips as if trying to figure out where to start.

In the end, the logical side shook his head and dismissed whatever ideas were swarming in his big brain of his.

“I will return soon. For now you should rest, the pain killers should make that easier.”

With that lack luster goodbye, Logan left, and the lights dimmed once more. Remus watched the door for some time after until the pain killers had his eyes close against his will and he fell into sleep.

*

*

*

“How many bones are in the human body?”

Remus did not look away from the star covered ceiling. His bare feet were stuck up in the air and waved around as they defied gravity’s pull.

“As a baby you have 270 bones, but as an adult you only have 206,” came the reply to his right.

“How do you loose bones?” Remus turned his head to give Logan a confused look.

The teenager was hunched over a desk with a copy of Thomas’ homework spread out in front of him. Math always made Logan angry, which is why Remus was here to ask questions when he got frustrated. It was a tactic they found benefited them both. Remus got to learn cool facts and Logan took breaks unintentionally.

Logan looked up and pushed his glasses up his nose with the pencil in his hands.

“Well, your bones fuse together as you grow so they can become stronger. It is like in the skull where the plates move around and eventually form one hard mass.”

Remus rolled onto his side on Logan’s bed as he watched the other go off onto a small tangent about the skeletal structure. How Logan knew all of this was beyond him, but Remus lived for it.

“What bone in the body is the hardest to heal when broken?”

He asked the question as it pushed through his mind.

Logan paused and gave it a thought, “I think it would be the small bones near your thumb that make up your hand. You are constantly using your thumb and moving it, but broken bones need time to rest.”

Remus nodded along as another thought passed through his mind.

“What happens if you break your neck?”

Once again Logan paused, “Well you might become paralyzed. Or you could lose your ability to balance. Why are you asking this?”

Remus shrugged, “Just curious. I like making my stories more realistic is all.”

Logan nodded. He seemed to be studying the side in front of him. Remus just stared back, ready for some kind of comment about how maybe he didn’t need to add those additions into this stories. Or that maybe he would be better off not writing something where someone was injured in such a way.

Remus looked back up at the ceiling but found that it was now the rough boards of a ship. He sat up fast and looked to his side to ask Logan when they had moved but found himself alone. A hat was rested on the desk near his bed.

The now adult Remus got up and moved towards the desk. A picture frame was laid down onto the hardwood. He moved to pick it up and set it right, but a sound caught his attention. The smallest crack of glass.

He looked up just in time to watch as the glass window broke, and water began to rush in. He was forced back against the wall and it knocked the wind out of him. Salt water filled in the space and traveled down into his lungs.

Everything in his body was telling him to get away from the wall and swim up, but he found he could not move. The force of the water or his own fright, he could not tell. All he knew was that he needed help but there was no one here to help him.

_He couldn’t breathe. His chest was burning for air, his eyes felt hazy. The rope around his neck only seemed to pull tighter the more he struggled. He just wanted to get down._

The Duke sat up with a gasp, his forehead covered in sweat and heart beat rapid. His hands found themselves around his own throat just to be sure that the rope was no longer pressed deeply into him. He still tasted the phantom of salt water on his tongue.

His hand tightened around his throat as the nightmare clung tightly to him like cobwebs. He wanted so badly to brush them off but felt like if he did, they would turn out to be the webs of a black widow. She would bite him, and he would slowly suffer.

Suffer alone, like always.

Oh Thomas, he wished Dee was there. He wished Virgil was there too, but Virgil would never come. He didn’t care. He wanted the familiar. The family he had chosen and that had chosen him. A tiny rebellious part of him wanted his brother, the other half of the whole facet of creativity.

Remus closed his eyes tightly and squeezed a little harder. The pain of the bruise and abrasions from the rope protested in agony at the abuse, but the familiar feeling grounded him as the terror continued to swirl.

 ** _“Since when had nightmares made you such a baby,”_** his thoughts jeered.

**_“Wouldn’t it be funny if you pushed the I.V. needle all the way through your vein?”_ **

**_“You should have just d-.”_ **

Something warm pried his hands away from his throat just as something cold touched his forehead. The sensation brought him from his self-imposed terror filled trance. He pulled away from the warmth with a strangled gasp. He reached up and grabbed the wet object off his forehead, ready to throw it at the possible threat.

“Sorry, kiddo, didn’t mean to scare you.”

Remus stared dumbly at Patton. The moral side was sat on a chair next to him in a cat onesie. He slowly pulled his eyes to what was in his hands; a wet rag covered in pastel paw prints dripped a drop of water onto the blanket of Remus’ bed. The rag was confusing enough, but what really controlled his brain was the fact that Patton was here at all.

“I-I…” He couldn’t open his mouth very far as something hard was surrounding it.

Patton gently shushed him, “Don’t talk. Lo only took the tube out an hour ago.”

In response, Remus moved a hand up to touch his mouth. His brain slowly registered it as an oxygen mask, slowly helping him take in full breaths of air. When he moved his face a certain way it made a fart sound as he broke the seal. This would be entertaining if he was not so confused. 

Remus hesitantly relaxed back against the pillows and the wet rag was dabbed on his forehead gently by Patton. The moral side had a focused expression on his face as he tried to wash the sweat from the duke’s face. A loving action to chase away the possible low-grade fever and the nightmare that had broken the Duke from sleep. He had not had this level of care in such a long time.

No, that was a lie, Dee cared in his own way. He would sit by Remus’ side or let hm climb into his bed after bad nights. Sure there were threats, but Remus knew that was just how the rattlesnake showed he cared.

Patton rested the rag across his forehead after a moment, sitting back in the chair with a soft sigh. His fingers messed with the paws of the onesie that just flapped unused around his wrists.

“Why?” Remus struggled to get the word out, the mask’s seal breaking as he asked it. His voice was rough, not his usual nasally, smug tone. Worn from lack of use and probably the destroyed layers of flesh caused by the rope. Whoops, looks like no singing or demonic screaming for him for some time.

The question made Morality pause. He looked to Remus but quickly diverted his gaze over to the wall. The invisible picture he was staring at must be very interesting as he answered towards it instead of towards the bedridden side.

“Well, you seemed like to had a fever. Thought I could help a little,” Patton deflected as he looked down at his lap, “I may not know as much as Lo about helping you out, but I can at least help with this.”

“No,” Remus tried to clear his throat to speak a little louder. The movement only made the mask’s seal break again, but Remus ignored it as he sat up a little more on his pillows. The being FedExed via the mask towards him did a good job drying out his already unused throat.

“Why are you here? You…you hate me.”

Patton looked up fast. Remus was used to what he said being surprising, but he did not think that Patton would look so crushed from him just stating what they both already knew.

“You think…!?! Patton covered his mouth wiped the tears that had started to bubble up in his eyes, “No, Remus, I don’t hate you. I could never…Did I really make you think…?”

Remus confused expression only made Patton look back at the invisible painting on the wall; a few sniffles muffled by the hands over his mouth. Sure, the Duke liked to cause the other sides distress, but usually that was through spontaneous summoning or pranking. This was just a question about a fact Remus had long ago learned to live with.

He just wanted to know why someone that hated him was here at his sick bed. Now crying because of a question about a fact of life. If this had been any other harmless jape Virgil would have come and beat his ass for making Patton cry.

He glanced around the dim room nervously for the emo before he looked back at Patton. The man’s shoulders shook as he tried to suppress his tears. Millions of ideas passed through Remus’ head on solutions to this problem, but none seemed to stick long enough from him to enact them. He was pretty sure that Patton would not appreciate a bloody heart in trade for him to stop. He was helpless as he watched Patton try and calm his breathing.

“I hurt both of you so much,” Patton said so softly that Remus had to strain to hear him.

Patton’s warm hand took his own suddenly and gave it a tight squeeze. Remus opened his mouth to say something, but Patton cut him off.

“You aren’t bad.”

His mouth closed with an audible click; eyes widened at a statement he never thought he would hear.

“I’m sorry I ever made you think you were. I didn’t mean to. I just thought if I didn’t…if I didn’t acknowledge anything you did that, I didn’t like then it would go away.” Patton hiccupped, “But that was bad. I hurt you. I hurt Roman. I…I hurt King.”

A shiver went down Remus’ spine. Patton wiped his eyes on his onesie sleeve.

“I’m sorry I did this to you.”

The puzzle pieces finally clicked together. This was the pity and blame taking that he predicted would happen if he was found out. All this sobbing and crying from Pat was a long winded apology for the dumb stunt that Remus had pulled on his own volition.

“Whoa!” Remus coughed a little and pulled his hand out of Patton’s grip, “Hold up there, Père, you didn’t do shit.”

“But-.”

“No,” Remus waved him off, “you had your talk. My turn, which is gonna be a lot since I haven’t talked in a long ass time.”

Remus tried to get a smile but that only made Patton’s bottom lip tremble. He cringed and twisted his fingers in the blanket. He thought it would have garnered a response about this being a new record for his silence.

“I mean,” Remus coughed a little, “This was on me. I walked off that catwalk. All on me, you didn’t push me or anything.”

“But why did you?” Patton asked.

It was always the ‘why’. _Why_ did you draw your brother dead, Remus? _Why_ would you want to carry a dead frog? _Why_ are you laughing, Remus, this could have killed someone!?! Why? Why? _WHY?_

One day they would understand that there is never a ‘why’ with him.

Remus shrugged, “It was an idea. No real big mystery here. I thought it and did it, no consideration of the consequences.”

“So it just an…idea?” Patton seemed uncertain.

 _“This time it was,_ ” Remus didn’t say. He just nodded and snuggled back against the pillows. The ceiling had become something very interesting now.

Every time the bedridden side glanced to the side, Patton was there with the same expression of shock and horror. In those eyes there was also some disappointment and sadness mixed in for flavor. Now this was an expression Remus had come to expect from Patton for any of his ideas.

What he didn’t understand was another emotion that was hidden behind the typical response. Something had changed while he was gone, but if Remus asked, he doubted he would get a straight answer.

_“Heh, straight.”_

“Alright,” Patton said after a long time, “Even if it was a whim, then that is…well it is not okay. It had me very scared; everyone scared. If you have this idea again, or something similar, you should tell someone. Hurting yourself or someone else doesn’t have to be the only option.”

“I know, Père, Dee-Dee tells me all the time. No need to pretend to care.”

Patton looked sadder now in the dim light of the room. A broken expression that threatened to let the baby blue of his eyes spill out and drown him.

“I am not pretending to care,” Patton said softly, “And Janus is right. You should talk about these things. I…I know you don’t trust me, and I don’t expect you to, but please try and talk to someone you do trust. I don’t want you hurt, kiddo. I’m sorry I made you feel like I don’t care about you.”

 _“Janus?”_ That was a name that tickled the back of Remus’ mind. A memory that called for him to fix the pronunciation, but also ask how Patton even gained access to it. He was not even allowed to say that name; mostly because Deceit got sick of all the anus jokes.

His thoughts were thrown off the track and blown up at the bottom of a ravine as the cool touch of the wet rag was moved away.

“Get better, Remus.”

A gentle kiss that burned like fire was placed on the creative side’s forehead. All thoughts stopped and a loud whine took them over. He didn’t even acknowledge how Patton slipped out of the room without another word.

He brought a shaky hand up to his forehead. For a moment he felt like a newly formed side, curled up in bed; his brother snoring loudly in the bunk above. The gentle moving of a blanket to tuck him in as he pretended to sleep, and a whispered goodnight said from Heart as the older side put away the story book, he had been reading to them both.

Then the memory faded like a cloud of vape, leaving a sour smell around him. Too sweet and nice that it made him want to vomit up the emptiness in his stomach. All he had now was the beep of the heart monitor and the loneliness of the room. He rolled over the best he could to face away from the empty chair next to his bed. Sleep would not come easy tonight, not that it ever did when the past rose back up in his mind.

*

*

*

In the three days of being bedridden, Remus never saw Roman. The Duke didn’t question it. He expected his brother to avoid him, even pretend that what he had witnessed had never happened. What threw off this expectation was the constant appearance of flowers that scattered the room. This tiny white room was becoming a rainbow from all the petals that had begun to fall to the floor as the flower’s dried.

He knew only two sides that were dramatic enough to bury him in flowers and only one of them would try to make every possible color and species. If this was his twin’s way of reconnecting, then he was going to have to start bringing in pre-dead flowers. How was a side supposed to eat living, chewy petals? The crunch of the dying flowers was much more satisfying.

Currently, Remus’ attention was taken to a small gnat that had begun to settle into the dying roses. He watched the small creature zip around the petals with a glassy gaze. Every so often he would move the oxygen out of his nose to rub away an itch. He was glad the mask was off, but this little thing was going to give him a nosebleed with how dry his nostrils felt.

Wouldn’t that be fun?

His new gnat friend buzzed down onto a tulip when his attention was diverted.

“…I am taking him home!”

The familiar voice snapped him from his bored staring. Eyes locked onto the door with expectant gaze. Only one person could hiss and shout at the same time. Oh isn’t this a fairytale, his knight in scaley armor here to rescue him from the clutches of boredom.

“He is home!” Came a boisterous response that could only be from his wicked twin brother.

Deceit’s bark of sarcastic laughter followed, “Really? Since when has this been his home? Since when have you actually cared for his wellbeing, Creativity? Have you two been bonding behind my back or are you just feeling guilty about what your neglect has wrought?”

Roman’s response could not be heard.

Remus shuffled in the bed as angry footsteps got closer. His bare feet touched the cold floor and sent a shiver up his spine. His legs shook as he put pressure on them, but he was tired of laying around. Tired of waiting for Logan to tell him what he could and couldn’t do. So tired.

He pulled the oxygen off and over his head, letting the tube fall onto the bed. A wave of his hand changed the drab hospital gown into a more comfortable t-shirt and sweats. As much as he loved his more sparkly outfit, now was not the time to be jingling as he walked.

He shuffled his way towards the door just as the footsteps stopped outside of it. A witty remark died on the tip of his tongue as someone else spoke up just beyond the wood.

“You knew?” Virgil’s growl made him pull his hand back even though it was not directed towards him.

“You knew all this time and you didn’t tell anyone? I can’t…of course you would just let this kind of shit happen. Doesn’t hurt you, so why bother, right?”

Shadows crept under the door as Virgil got angrier.

"I thought you at least cared about him. You should have told someone! This isn't one of your secrets you can just-," Deceit’s bitter laugh cut him off and the shadows retreated slightly.

“Oh, Virgil, always thinking about what I should have done. You don't even consider what I had the power to do."

Janus' voice seemed to lower to a low growl. The click of polished shoes got closer to the door where Virgil stood. It made Remus take a small step back to avoid the wrath he was not even being dealt.

"Or consider the very fact that if I had said anything, you would never believe me! None of you would. Probably believe that this was a devious scheme or just a lie for pity." Deceit laughed a broken sounding laugh, "Hell, Anxiety, You didn’t even think twice about the beheaded incident after I said it was fine, never asked me if this was something that happened often. You accepted that lie but now you ask me to tell the truth about something I have no control over; you would _defiantly_ believe me right?"

Remus could imagine the dramatic swirl of the cape as he looked to the others that were probably in the hall. The side finally exploding after so much stupid ideas Remus made him sit through.

“All of you would have believed me right away! I am _sure_ you would come running at my beck and call to help someone you rejected."

A stomp of a foot and the quiet voice got louder, "I have been dealing with this bullshit since I was fucking twenty and I couldn't say a damn thing! I have been silent for a decade and just watching without anyone to turn to! And now... even if I could have said something, I don't think I would. I have watched and cared for him more then any of you have ever done; watched you all. Saw who was to blame for all of this. You are the reason he put a bullet in his fucking head! And you, the reason he slit his wrists. How about the two of you always judging and making him feel worthless! Who knows what else slipped by me that you all caused!?!”

Remus opened the door slowly and stared at the scene in the hallway. He had been right that Virgil was against the door as the emo stumbled back into Remus' chest. His ex-friend took a glance at him and pushed away like he had been burned; tear tracks dragged his eye shadow down his cheeks. Patton and Logan were to right, the moral side tightly clinging onto Logic and he sniffled into the stoic side's shirt. Roman was to the left, eyes wide and face pale. His sword was drawn but the tip was pointed down at the floor.

Deceit was in the middle of it all. He was a mess, dirt stained on his capelet, scales dull, and face painted with a hysteric smile and tear tracks. He was too lost in his rant to notice as Remus stepped out of the room and moved towards him.

“I wanted to tell you so bad, Virgil, because that is what we did. We helped each other,” Deceit continued, “but then you showed that you didn’t actually care. Long as you had Prince Perfect and the glasses squad, everything would be so much better. Everything is better for the light sides if they just ignore their problems. Or you can run away from them."

"Dee-Dee," Remus whispered the nickname as he moved closer to his friend.

"Don't want to face the consequences until they come crashing down int you face too late to actually do anything! l actually thought you all could change, but I was stupid to-oh.”

Remus pulled his friend into a tight hug with no room for escape and the snake went still along with the world around them. Remus listened to the shallow breaths of his friend as the other processed what was happening. 

“I’m sorry, Janus.” _I should never had let you find out._

The simple whispered words seemed to break the side. The angry hysterics turned to sobs as he pulled Remus to the ground. Remus held him tightly as he sobbed into his chest. He pulled the hat off the side’s head so he could run his fingers through his hair. Years of secrets and hidden worry poured out until Janus was left sniffling into Remus’ chest.

“Remus-“

Remus’ head snapped up to look at his brother, his hold a little tighter around his friend. Roman took a small step back at the sudden reaction. The duke’s eyes watched him as he tried to shake away the fear and stand taller.

“Remus…I didn’t know.”

“You weren’t supposed to. No one was.”

The prince looked torn with what he wanted to say next.

“How…De-Janus mentioned since he was twenty, how long were you…?”

Remus looked at the side buried in his chest. Did he really want Janus to know that the night in the bathtub was only the first time with slit wrists? No, not really, but what was the point of keeping secrets now? After all, he was never good at hiding things.

“I was sixteen when I jumped from the skyscraper you were supposed to meet me on. It was the fist time I really felt alive.”

Remus did not wait for a reaction. He held onto Deceit tighter and they both sunk out back to their living room. The silence and cool air greeted him like a familiar ice bath, but the Duke just felt empty inside. Like a part of him had been taken out and exposed to the dry air of the desert; mummified and useless.

He leaned back against the couch and let out a long breath. He broke the strained silence between him and Deceit with the first thing that popped into his head.

“So, what is up with Janus?”

“I told them, only way for them to listen. Roman laughed at it, I insulted him back, then you were missing,” the words were mumbled into the Duke’s shirt.

Remus nuzzled the top of the side’s head with his chin and hummed in thought.

“Cool, cool. But I was more asking why they are saying it wrong.”

Deceit said nothing. No clever come back, no protest against having ‘anus’ in his name. The normal banter killed by the awkward air and the unknown that was about to befall them.

“You are going to have to talk to them eventually.”

Remus knew, but Deceit saying out loud made the fact more real. He may have run away this time, but this was temporary. The secret was out in the air and there was no way to avoid it forever.

“I know, but is it so wrong to want to curl up in my own bed for the night?”

“Yes,” Janus’ reply was fast, “Because you are going to be out on the couch with me tonight.”

“Ah, typical procedures then?”

A nod and Remus gave a light chuckle. Finally a piece of normality before it all was smashed to bits.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You may notice the series added onto this. The other work(s) will most likely just alternative PoVs, alternative story paths this could have taken, or oneshots set after/before. There is no guarantee on them but I like to keep options open.
> 
> This fic was supposed to be done SO long ago, but here we are.


	9. Healing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In the past two weeks, Remus had been more focused on getting his strength back then actually trying to understand the consequences of everyone knowing. Too bad he can't run from this forever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Remember how I said that I would have this done by the end of August? HA, sorry. I got a job in the middle of August, like only a few days after I published the last chapter, and things just got all crazy. But here we are, the end of the line. It has been a fun ride and I thank everyone for being so patient with me. I hope this chapter lives up to the expectation. 
> 
> Warnings: Emotional talk, admittance to suicidal ideation, sexual innuendoes, fluff, brotherly bonding, fire, smoke, food that should not be consumed

**Healing**

_One foot in front of the other foot_

In the past two weeks, Remus had been more focused on getting his strength back then actually trying to understand the consequences of everyone knowing. Down in the unconscious mind with Deceit he could almost pretend that everything was still normal. He did not have to see the other sides and could lay around wherever he wanted as long as he had underwear on (Janus’ ‘one article of clothing’ rule had been rewritten to require the clothing be covering the pelvic region recently).

Still, there was a general air that the normal he so wanted to hold onto had shifted into something darker. Deceit now was having nearly daily meetings with the other sides or talking with Thomas directly; something that Remus wished he did not feel bitter about. The door in his bathroom that had disappeared a decade ago had reappeared. Remus had peaked through it to prove his suspicions and promptly locked it. Roman could just use someone else’ bathroom since the mind rudely merged their private quarters without warning.

Remus loved change usually. He was all about spontaneity and randomness, but this was a change into his more hidden parts. The soft flesh of the monster exposed bare for anyone to plunge a knife deep into. The inability to predict what would happen next did not please him as usual but left him hesitant to take any action.

It is a wonder with all this worry how he got himself to sleep, which made it all the more frustrating when he was woken up from his dream of seducing a hot sea serpent by a knock on his door.

Remus blinked his eyes blearily at the pillow he had squashed his face into. A blind hand moving to grab the melting alarm clock that sat on his bedside table. It took a few moments for his tired mind to be able to read the dripping numbers and wiggling hands accurately. In that span of time another three knocks were rapped on his door.

“Hold on,” he said in a tone he hoped was loud enough to hear, “Keep your dick in your pants.”

The duke detangled himself from the one blanket he had on his bed and tried not to trip over the rest that laid on the floor. Tired hands grabbed the nearest pair of pants he could find and slipped them on so he would not have to hear the snake’s lecture about answering the door ‘decently dressed’ again.

Another knock came but Remus opened the door before anymore could follow.

“It is five in the fucking morning, Jan, what do you—oh. You aren’t Snakey.”

It was, indeed, not the snake side that stood at the door. Instead of black and yellow he saw black and blue. An eyebrow behind Warby-Parker glasses was raised. Now that Remus thought about it, why would he even think Deceit would be at his door at five in the morning? The snake had to be dragged out of bed if anyone wanted him up before noon.

“I am not,” Logan answered, “I am sorry to disturb you, I should have accounted that not everyone wakes up at such an early hour like myself.”

Remus crossed his arms over his bare chest and learned against the doorframe. He stuck a finger in his ear and wiggled it around to get an itch.

“Yeah, not everyone is a morning bird, but don’t worry. You just caught me on the rare night I actually slept,” he laughed and flicked the wax ball off to the side of the hall over Logan’s shoulder.

“Do you usually have trouble sleeping? That can be very detrimental to your overall wellbeing.”

“Aw, you sound like you care, Professor. But why are you really here? I am sure it is not to tell me about proper sleep habits, and I can only wish really hard this is the booty call I have only dreamed about.”

Much to Remus’ disappointment, Logan did not react to the latter part of his statement. He pushed up his glasses in a subtle nervous habit.

“Quite right there is a matter I wished to discuss. It occurred me a few nights ago that you extended an invitation that I failed to follow up on in the aftermath of that day. I do apologize for that, fixing the others’ mistakes took longer than I had planned and ended up going to sleep early.”

Remus’ casual smile and slouch disappeared. He stood up straighter, no longer learning against the doorframe to his room.

“I simply wondered if that invitation still stands. I am truly fascinated with what amount of accuracy you attempt to assemble in your creations.”

“I—”

“I understand if that offer had a limited time frame and you are not obliged to offer me another after I did not answer appropriately.”

Remus blinked, this still tired brain having to catch up with the words the logical side just said.

“You…you want to see what I have made?”

“Is that not what you had offered before?”

“Yes!” Remus grinned brightly before another thought rammed into the back of his skull, “But the ship I was talking about kind of sunk.”

“Oh,” a gleam of disappointment shown bright in the logical side’s eyes, “I see.”

“But I got some others in the works,” Remus quickly tried to remedy the situation, “Usually I am all for the frigates and Man o’ Wars, but I have been trying my hand at some more larger vessels. Maybe you want to look at the plans for my Titanic?”

“That would be most excellent, whatever time works best for you.”

Remus pulled Logan into his room and closed the door. The side did not have time to ask Remus what he was doing as the Duke continued to drag him towards an ornately made wardrobe. He opened the door to let a bright light enter the room.

“I’m not leaving this up to chance again, Doc. Plus you already woke me up,” the duke answered the unsaid questions, “Now, nerds first.”

Logan opened his mouth to protest but allowed himself to just give a long sigh through his nose and stepped through. Remus close behind him.

The smell of sea salt and the dampness of a stone room greeted the two sides as they entered Remus’ chambers in the imagination. The dark stone that the tower was made of sparkled in the early morning light. A snap of the creative side’s fingers and they both found themselves more appropriately dressed for a walk around a seaside capital of a duchy.

“It is actually a short walk to the shipyard from here, I like being involved with the building process, so we an enjoy a rare non-rainy morning in my side for once,” Remus said.

He passed Logan with a small hop in his step. Excitement was coursing through him at a voltage he had not felt in a long time. How long had it been since someone asked him to see his creations without him having to be the first one to bring them up? He could not say.

“Well, that gives us ample time to talk.”

The two exited the tower’s main door and started towards the creaking gate that protected it from invaders.

“Oh,” the smile on Remus’ face turned down a little.

 _“This is what he actually wanted. He wants to talk about this shit,”_ his thoughts rang, _“ **He doesn’t actually care about what you make. No one does.**_ ”

Remus stepped into a muddy puddle and covered his black boot in a casing of brown.

“I simply wanted to apologize over my actions in the past few years. I allowed the others to perceive you as the cause of Thomas’ darker ideas instead of rightfully explaining that you are simply the carrier.”

Remus looked away from the path and directly at Logic, “What?”

“Your job is to hone all of the thoughts that Thomas himself creates, then it passes onto me and Deceit to either block or reason them out. What has happened, however, is I allowed too many to be blocked and did not try to ease some with reason to make your job easier. I allowed myself to believe that Janus’s blockade would be strong enough forever and have no consequences, despite the proof to the contrary. Reasoning one half creativity but blocking the other does not help Thomas in the long run and it definitely does not help you.”

Remus opened his mouth and closed it again before he kicked at an empty glass bottle on the road.

“Wow, Logan, didn’t know you would be the one to get all mushy on me first.”

“You are deflecting.”

Remus stopped walking. The crash of waves and the cry of seagulls filling his ears as he fully faced his companion.

“Well, what do you want me to say? You just dumped a whole lot of exposition on me and the most I come up with in the idea department is sexual fantasies and butts.”

“Inaccurate, you also provide Thomas with ideas that are more challenging to execute and drive him to research obscure topics at random moments throughout the day.”

Logan sighed and then put a hand on the duke’s shoulder, “What I am trying to say is, I apologize for ignoring you for so long and wish to work with you if you will allow it.”

Remus looked at the hand and then back at Logan. His thoughts spun like a tornado in a hurricane; too fast to grab onto without getting cut. What did he really think about this sudden emotional vulnerability that the stoic logic just threw at him?

“Does this mean I can ask you random questions?”

“Yes, within reason.”

“And was this brought on my…ya’ know?” He had to know if this sudden turn of attitude was caused by them finding out. If this was another action of guilt.

“Only partially,” Logan admitted, “But I have suspected the effects for a long time, most notably during your introduction video. Janus’ blockade being lowered brought me the first major evidence that I needed to change my tactics.”

Remus nodded and shrugged the hand off his shoulder.

“Alright, but no takesies-backsies, mister.”

The two started down the muddy trail again. A small wright seemed to have been taken off Remus’s shoulders as he walked along. Once again, the bounce in his step took him town the hill towards the shore.

The sound of hammers and the shouts of workers started to overwhelm the screech of the seagulls before they could even see the shipyard. Remus stopped on the hill just before the slope took them down towards the water. In the middle of the array of wooden ships and frames was a large metal structure half built and not yet painted.

“We mostly have the outside built,” Remus explained.

Beside him, Logan took in the view with wide eyes.

“This is incredible. The level of detail on the shipyard alone, not to mention having the ship be physically built instead of simply summoning the creation from the air.”

Remus shrugged and scratched at his head in embarrassment, “Yeah, well, I have a lot of time. Might as well get my hands dirty while making something.”

His eyes caught sight of a ship that had recently came in for repairs. A frigate whose wooden sides had begun to deteriorate.

“Wanna see the inside of a classic frigate before we get all technical with the modern steamer?”

Logan broke his eyes away from the shipyard and gave a smile to the nervous duke.

“I would be honored.”

A captain’s hat appeared in Remus’ hands and he put it on his head. With a shout he ran down the hill, a light grip on Logan’s wrist just to be sure he did not get lost in the crowd of workers. Childish excitement fueled the bright sun that began to rise over the sharp peaks of the distant mountains.

The beginning of the first sunny day in the duchy in years.

Sand and mud that were stuck to the two side’s shoes eventually found its way into the frame of the great ship _Titanic_. By then the cool early morning air had started to dissipate and the sun shown high.

“You could reinforce the sides,” Logan suggested, “Virgil made me watch some theories on the ship itself, and I find the idea that a fire weakened the sides of the ship to be quite compelling.”

Remus laughed, “Why would I do that? I want it to sink.”

Logan looked bemused, “Why go through all this effort then?”

Remus just shrugged, “More fun. Plus, I get a cool party ship I can drive by Roman’s ports and tease him with.”

“Ah.”

Remus nodded, “Thinking I should have done the _Britannic,_ that ship at least got some carnage as it ate people with its propeller.”

Logan nodded, “It was quite a tragedy, one that fits your style quite well.”

Remus beamed. There had been no dismissal of his ideas and not even a look of fear at wanting to recreate that deadly ship. He could get used to being listened to.

A small beep is what drew him from his thoughts. Next to him, Logan looked down at his watch and his eyes went wide.

“I do apologize, Remus, but I did not intend to spend so much of my morning here. I am already thirty minutes behind on my usual work.”

Remus looked up at the sky as they stepped out of the unfinished hull. He squinted at the sun in the sky.

“We have been here for four hours; I will let you leave. Kidnapping over.”

“I would hardly call this a kidnapping. More of a pleasant morning outing with a friend.”

Remus’ stumbled over his feet at the declaration. He could only stare at the back of Logan’s head in shock as the other side made his way up the hill and out of the sandy shipyard.

“Friend?”

Logan turned around and looked down at him, “Yes? Would I be mistaken to use that term?”

Remus scrambled up the hill to be next to the logical side. A grin was forming on his face, euphoria was filling his lungs, and boy could this joy be addicting.

“No, friend is great! Fantastic! Fucking brilliant!”

Logan gave a soft smile, “I am glad you agree, and I would not be apposed of another outing such as this.”

Remus was on cloud nine. His mouth moving a mile a minute as he suggested all the things, he wanted to show Logan. From his reenacted battles to the lab he made for taste testing chemical concoctions. He did not stop until they were in front of Logan’s door in the conscious part of the mindscape.

“I look forward to all of that,” Logan said when the duke paused to take a breath, “But right now, I believe we both should get ready for the day.”

“Right, so you really want to? When? Soon?”

Logan chuckled, “I will tell you when I am available, but it will not be too far in advance. Good morning, Remus.”

With that, Logan shut his door and left Remus standing in the hallway of his former home alone. For once, Remus did not care that he was shut out because he knew that the door would be unlocked for him whenever he needed it.

For the next five minutes he stood there with a confused, but happy, expression on his face. A feeling in his gut wanted him to float up onto the ceiling. His feet left the ground, but he forced that extra creative energy to dissipate. As much as he desperately wanted to cling to this good feeling by standing in front of this door all day.

He had avoided the other sides for two weeks because he was afraid on what they would try and say or do for them. More so afraid he would be able to taste the sour taste of guilt in the air and the looks of pity in their gaze.

Logan had not brought up any of that after his monologue. He had allowed Remus to be himself and seemed to just want to spend time with the other side. It felt nice, dare he say, amazing? Like a new bridge was being tied up over the bottomless pit of death he had been certain he would fall into just the day before.

But the fact was he could not stand there forever. One, it was boring. Two, he really did not need to be weirding Logan out after the side had just given him a promise for more awesome, dorky outings. Even if he were afraid to lose this good feeling, he could cling to the hope that there was more to come.

Remus pried his eyes away from the door and turned to leave. The sight behind him made him nearly jump out of his skin. He had to swallow the skeleton that threatened to run off without the meat suit he wore.

Only a few inches behind him was Patton; the puff ball of a side had the audacity of screaming at the same time, as if he had not expected Remus to ever turn around. Which was silly.

Not as silly as the Duke clutching his chest tightly as he leaned back against Logan’s door because Morality gave him a fright. **_MORALITY_** cared **_HIM_**! Now this was one situation he was glad no one was around to see because he would never live it down. It would haunt him until the end of Thomas’ days.

“What the fuck!?!”

“Sorry! I’m so sorry, I wanted to say something, but I got nervous and then you didn’t respond when I said you name. So, I thought you were ignoring me but now I see you were just daydreaming or something. Should have expected that, Ro does it all the time, of course you would too. Sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you, I’m sorry,” Patton rushed out.

For a man that took pride in talking a mile a minute, Patton’s rushed words went through one ear and out the other as the pounding of his heart drowned most of the sound out. He only had one question he could think to give in response.

“Why were you that close?” Patton didn’t like getting close to him.

Patton opened his mouth to say something but then seemed to decide a simple shrug would suffice. Seems even Patton did not understand his own motives. Great.

Remus pushed himself back to a standing position and tried to calm his rapid heartbeat. The way Morality kept shifting and looking at him with a mix of pity and fear was already bringing down the happy mood that he had harvested that day. Not to mention the mix in his gut of embarrassment of being snuck up on by the heart itself.

“Well, thanks for making me feel alive, really love the sound of my heart trying to escape my ribs in the morning. I’ve gotta get home before Janus loses his marbles…also his sanity. He really loves his marbles.”

He conjured a bag of marbles and tossed it in the air with a smile that did not reach his eyes. He turned to follow the muddle trail that he and Logan had left. He had to force himself to walk instead of run.

_“Acting casual.”_

“Wait.”

Remus’ foot hung in the air as he turned his head slowly to look at the moral side. His neck popped with every turn and he was almost pleased to see how that made Patton uncomfortable. At least some things don’t change despite pitying looks.

“I know you probably don’t want to,” Patton messed with the arms of the hoodie that kept the hoodie from falling from his shoulders, “But I was going to ask Logan to help me make breakfast. I thought…maybe…you would want to instead. And maybe we can talk?”

“Pat-.”

“I understand if you don’t want to after everything, but” he looked down at his shoes, “I was told that hiding your ickier feelings isn’t good. I know I have never been here for you as much as I should have been, but I want to try and fix that.”

Remus looked down the hall. The trail of muddy footprints beckoned him to follow them back to the imagination and escape the awkward situation he was placed in suddenly.

He looked at Patton and a voice that sounded way too much like Janus for his liking told him that he needed to face the other side’s eventually. It also told him that if Patton did anything to hurt him that the snake would bite his dick off but that might be a mix in of his usual thoughts.

Another small thought wondered if he could make an edible meal if he had help. Probably not, but it would be worth the horrified look on Patton’s face.

“I am warning you in advance, I have been banned from the stove, oven, and microwave.”

“That a yes?”

Remus gave a small nod.

The smile that Patton gave could kill a demon. The sunshine brightness had to be ethereal light because it made Remus grimace. With one last glance back down the hallway he followed Patton down towards the kitchen.

Remus had barely stepped inside before he felt a change and looked down. A white apron was over his clothes and he had to tilt his head to read the upside-down writing on it.

“Whatever happens, we’re eating it,” he read to himself. The word “we’re” was in the caricature of a knife.

Slowly, he looked up at Patton. His own apron was baby blue and read ‘Best flippin’ dad ever’ never to a picture of a spatula. The moral side gave a small, nervous smile.

“No puns?” Remus asked.

“I got nervous and couldn’t think of anything.”

Remus looked back down at his apron and then gave a shrug, “It’s accurate, I will give you that. So, what are we making? Or attempting to.”

Patton looked around the kitchen like he was lost before he grabbed a list that was stuck to the fridge.

“Menu says today is omelet day. That should be easy.”

He put the ‘menu’ back on the fridge door before he opened it. Grabbing ingredients without much though on what they were. Remus ended up holding the egg carton and a few sorry looking vegetables. A small part of him wondered if Patton and himself were even qualified to make food without supervision. That was pushed away when he saw Pat grab a bottle of chocolate syrup.

Never mind, this man was a culinary genius.

“I’ll find a bowl and a pan!” He put everything on the counter and started to rummage through the cabinets.

He grabbed the first pan he saw and a few different sized bowls and set them next to their ingredients. Patton placed utensils next to them.

“If I remember correctly, we need to put the eggs in a bowl with some water and seasoning.”

Remus opened the egg carton, “Then let’s get crackin’!”

Patton giggled at the joke as Remus cracked an egg on the side of the bowl. Some of the white dripped down the sides while the yolk easily slid where it was supposed to go. He tossed the eggshell into the sink and grabbed a few more, unsure how much would be too much.

Three more eggs broke without a word between the pair. The fourth was tapped onto the side of the bowl without a crack appearing in the shell. The duke squinted at is as Patton moved around the kitchen behind him.

“I’ve been thinking…” Patton said.

Remus fumbled to keep the uncracked egg in his grip at the unexpected break in silence. He had pushed the second part of this agreement out of his head in favor of focusing on making something edible.

“Was it hard?” Remus replied quickly as he turned to face the other side.

“Hard?”

“The thinking? Was it hard to do? I find thinking in coherent thoughts or a certain pattern just leads to more screaming in my skull then nothing. Pretty sure my train of thought has been long overturned, on fire, and broken over the cliff in the sharp spikes of the Himalayas.”

Patton stared at him with a confused expression before he shook his head fast as if to throw off the word dumb just spilled on him.

“No, I mean a little, but the important thing is what I was thinking about.”

“Logan’s cock.”

“What?”

“Virgil’s butt?”

“No!”

“Oh, you are more of a Snakey’s snake man?”

“Remus!” Patton’s face was red, but it was hard to say if it was out of frustration or embarrassment.

Remus shrugged and cracked the egg on the counter and ate the raw insides. The shell was contemplated before it was thrown into the sink with the others. He expected Patton to say something along the lines of ‘that is not healthy’ and ‘we needed those eggs’ but the side just took a long breath through his nose.

“Thomas and Janus have helped me realize that I don’t always know the answer to life’s harder moral questions. We were kids when you and Roman…” Patton paused, “I thought ignoring and pretending they didn’t exist would help everyone. That we could all be a happy family while guiding you in the direction I thought was right. That Thomas thought was right.”

Remus felt uncomfortable. He turned and cracked another egg into the bowl, not caring that a few eggshells made their way into the contents.

“I didn’t realize how much it hurt you both. I set impossible standards and…and it drove you away. I drove you away and pretended I didn’t care because I…I convinced myself you were bad but I’m the bad one.”

“Whoa! Stop the speeding bus!” Remus spun on his heels.

Patton had tears running down his face. Remus knew he was not the one that should be comforting someone, but he was the only one around.

“You are not bad. Hell, I think the worst person in this room is me.”

“No, you aren’t!”

Remus put up his hands in surrender at quick protest.

“Okay, well, my point still stands. You are not bad. Sure, I could have had a better childhood but that doesn’t mean you are the soul reason I do the things I do. I told everyone already, there is no rhyme or reason to what I do, I just do.”

“A…a schoodly-boo?”

“Hey, no making it a rhyme. This is serious Dukey time.”

The wet giggle he got encouraged Remus to keep going.

“You were scared of me, but I didn’t give you a reason to not be. I played up my worst around you and that is just the fact of it. I wanted you to fear me. I liked the screams, cries, and all out surprised face.”

He smiled a little.

“Mostly because it was the only way anyone could hear my ideas.”

Patton hesitantly placed a hand on Remus’ arm.

“When you were being cared for by Logan, you said you thought I didn’t care. Do you really think that I don’t care about you?”

Remus pulled back and hunched his shoulders. Trying to make his gangly form small as he hugged his chest.

“I…I mean, yeah. Since day one it seemed that Roman’s ideas were loved and then mine were told they were too scary, or gross, or horrible. Then when I ran away no one wanted to talk to me to hear what had happened. I still kind of think this whole ‘be nice to Remus’ thing is just pity and self-guilt for what you know.”

Patton reached out again but pulled back as if thrown off by the defensive posture. He wiped away tears and moved to mix in the seasoning. The salt and sugar were slowly whisked in.

“I’m sorry. And I am sorry that the apology is too late to fix things, but I am not doing this just because I feel guilty. I want you back in the family, kiddo, I think we all do. This whole dark side/light side split has gotten us into nothing but trouble after all.”

Remus blinked and then squinted at Patton. He got right up in his face. His breath clouded the moral side’s glasses as he looked him over.

“You know…” he spoke the words slowly as he pulled back to stand at his full height, “I actually believe you.”

“Y-you do?” Patton could not hide how that close contact had made him uncomfortable.

“Yeah, I do. That wedding aftermath really did a number on you. Now it is my turn to ask a question.”

Patton moved around him to pour the first omelet onto the pan that rested on the stove top. The eggs sizzled as they contacted the hot surface.

“Sure, what you got?”

Remus clasped his hands into a praying formation and pressed them up against his mouth. He took a deep breath in through his nose before angling his hand down to point the tips of his fingers at Patton.

“Can I see the buff frog version of you?”

“Huh?”

Remus moved and grabbed Patton’s shoulders, lightly shaking him back and forth, “Turn into a frog!”

“I don’t think I can do it on command.”

Remus let go and snapped his fingers, “Drat. Curse me for taking a month-long nap and missing the coolest sounding shit ever.”

“You could just watch the video?”

“It’s not the same,” Remus whined.

A giggle escaped the side and he patted the top of Remus’ head, “I’ll be sure to call you next time I have a moral problem to that degree.”

“Promise?”

“Promise, now what do you want on your omelet?”

Remus perked right back up and looked at the half-cooked eggs, “chocolate sauce, candy wrappers, onions, feta cheese, mayo, and a side of apples.”

Patton looked at him with an expression that mixed confusion and disgust.

“I don’t know what goes on an omelet,” he admitted after a second of awkward silence.

Patton stayed frozen before speaking.

“I don’t either,” he grabbed the chocolate sauce, “But I don’t think you should eat the wrappers so I will do everything but those.”

“Fine, I need to cut back anyway. They’ll ruin my figure.”

Remus twirled in his apron and felt a flick of joy when he got Patton to giggle.

The smell of breakfast cooking slowly began to turn into a nightmare of a stench. Burning chocolate and sugar, fried onion, and a spicy sent that kicked anyone that got too close to the pan. But they kept going, even as egg spilled over the pan and started to burn on the stove top.

While Patton cooked the food, Remus tried to juggle eggs or guess what the others would want on their breakfast, or both. The “both” options ended up with both of them wearing knew eggshell hats and a stream of egg related jokes.

“Patton, my good sir, this omelet is egg-quisite,” Remus said with a flourish of his fork. The last omelet was on the stove, cooking away as Remus leaned against the counter while eating his food.

“I think you used that pun already, you cracking under the pressure to think of new ones?”

Remus shoved another bite of his monstrosity he called food into his mouth, “Eh, I’m more into physical comedy.”

“Don’t talk with your mouth full.”

Remus rolled his eyes and stuck an egg covered tongue out at Patton. And that is when the stove caught fire. The burning egg mixture that had spilled finally having enough of their mayhem.

“HOT TAMALE!”

Remus dropped his plate and pulled Patton back from the flames as the side tried to grab the pan. The fire alarm began to shriek around them as the fire consumed the food and pan.

“Water!” Remus shouted over the shrill shriek and rushed to the sink. He grabbed a glass and moved to pour it on the blaze, but Patton’s hand stopped him.

“No! You need to cover it up, I think.”

“You think?”

The flame began to get larger. Patton risked moving closer to the stove and turned off the bower to the burner. Remus took his change to splash the water over the burning meal. It barely made a dent.

“So, covering it?”

“Stand back!”

The two sides jumped back quickly as Virgil raced into the room followed by Roman and Logan. The next moment the world was covered in white as the fire extinguisher the anxious side had brought in was deployed. The woosh of the cannister being emptied was barely heard over the deafening shriek of the alarm.

Even when the alarm finally turned off as the smoke was cleared, the sound still echoed around in Remus’ head. He blinked his eyes open and licked off the excess foam from around his mouth. Not exactly a good pairing with his omelet but he wouldn’t complain.

“What the Hell!?! Who let Patton cook alone?” Virgil looked between the two sides that had followed him in.

“Hey, don’t throw me out of this. We were co-chefs.”

Virgil glanced at the white figure that stood next to Patton and his glare doubled at Roman and Logan.

“Like I said, who let the two sides that have to have supervision in the kitchen cook alone?”

Roman looked offended at accused, “I was getting ready for the day. Usually it is Logan’s job to help with breakfast.”

Logan straightened his tie, “He is correct in that assertion and I believe this is partially my fault. I ran behind schedule due to a morning outing with Remus and let breakfast preparations slip my mind.”

“Roman, look, I’m a ghost!” Remus giggled as he waved his foam-covered arms in his brother’s face. Messes brought out the silliness in him.

“Don’t touch me when you are covered in whatever comes out of a fire extinguisher.”

Remus’ giggle turned into a low cackle as he flung himself at his twin. Roman bounced out of the way to avoid the attack.

“I am sorry, Virgil, I was just trying to make everyone an extra special breakfast. And Remus was helping, we just got a little distracted.”

“Remus, I swear to all things Disney if you touch me, I will stab you!” Roman shrieked as he jumped up on the counter to avoid his brother’s grasp.

“You are only making this more appealing!”

The other three continued to ignore the side’s antics. Virgil rubbed the bridge of his nose and took a deep breath.

“It is alright Pat,” he sent a wary look to the two creative twins, “But, to be honest, I don’t trust anything Remus makes so maybe the destruction of breakfast is alright. We can just have cereal.”

“After we clean up this mess,” Logan stated.

Remus had grabbed onto his brother’s leg just when Logan raised his hand and snapped. The foam and smoke stains disappeared; the benefits of being inside the mind.

“I do not understand why you could not simply make the fire disappear.”

Patton gave an embarrassed laugh, “We didn’t think of it.”

“No! My ghostly appearance!” Remus let out a squawk as his brother kicked him off his leg. Remus moved back just enough to let the prince jump back down to the floor.

“You don’t need to be covered in messy foam to be a horrible nightmare.”

Remus smiled brightly but neither of them could deny the awkward air that had suddenly settled down. The familiar playfulness had come back so easily but now, standing in front of one another for the first time in years without any weapons between them. Reality sunk in and once more ruined the floating happiness that had filled this morning’s mayhem.

“If anyone has touched my Boo-berries, I am going to go on a murder spree,” Virgil grumbled as they walked past the two.

With that the energy snapped. Roman straightened his jacket and gave a curt nod before he walked around.

Remus stood in the kitchen as everyone started to go through the motions of the morning. Logan started the coffee and grabbed two mugs from the cabinets. Patton scraped the ruined food into the trash bin, a waste because Remus loved the taste of burned food. Roman and Virgil began to bicker over the cereals in the cabinet.

He felt like an outsider, not sure what to do with himself.

Slowly, he began to back out, leaving the apron on the counter. He had placed himself in part of the lives of them but did not feel he was fully welcome to share the homey space. He turned the corner out of the kitchen when he was certain they were no longer paying attention.

It was way past time for him to return to his home anyway. Someone had to wake the snake after all, and no alarm would be able to do that on its own.

He had made it halfway to the door before someone grabbed his arm. He moved without thinking. He grabbed the arm and pulled; he heard the startled sound as his victim was flipped over his shoulders and landed heavily on the floor. He twisted the arm and stared down at his would-be assailant.

Roman’s eyes were wide in both pain and shock as he stared up at his twin from the floor.

“Roman,” he stated as if it was an observation, but Remus was confused on why his brother had even followed him.

“Do you and Virgil both train in the same moves or something?” Roman hissed through his teeth in pain.

“Maybe you should use that loudmouth of yours and announce yourself before you touch someone.”

Remus let go of the arm and stood back to let his brother stand up.

He felt awkward. The playfulness had come back so easily in the kitchen but that had been him riding off the high of two back to back great times with the blue man duo. Now the playful teasing seemed ages ago and the fact that his twin was alone with him now did not ease any worries. He had long ago learned to expect any alone time with his brother would lead to arguments and, hopefully, violence.

“Fair enough,” Roman smoothed out his outfit once he got to his feet, “I expect Deceit would do the same.”

“Oh no,” Remus grinned, “He’d bite you. I got the scars to prove it.”

He shoved his hand in his twin’s face to show off his pride and joy scars. The little pin pricks of white left by two angry snake fangs. He debated telling his brother that Janus was not venomous in his head. Better to let Roman risk finding out for himself. It was an act of passage, after all.

“Why are you proud of that?” Roman moved the handout of his face.

“Because I had been begging him to bite me for years before I found out that little trick,” Remus rolled his eyes, “How else was I supposed to test how far his snake stuff went?”

A sly smile appeared on the duke’s face, “Why? You jealous? You want the snake to bite you?”

Maybe if he pushed enough his brother would go on his way and leave Remus to do what he had been planning for the day. Some disgusting thoughts to be blocked and maybe beg Dee to make him some mac and cheese with tuna.

Roman sputtered, his hands moving in a wide variety of waves, before he took a deep breath. His eyes glanced back down the hall and Remus looked as well. Just in time to see three heads ducking back behind the wall that separated the kitchen from the rest of the house.

“Can we do this somewhere private?” Roman asked in a voice barely above a whisper.

 _“Do what?”_ Remus did not ask.

 _“You don’t want to kill slash disown me in front of the family.”_ He didn’t accuse.

A morbid curiosity had him shrug and gesture for Roman to lead the way. The prince turned back toward the house and Remus followed behind with hesitant steps. This was where this strange but alright day would fall apart.

He looked to Patton and Logan as they passed, noting that Virgil was no longer in the kitchen. Patton gave him a small thumbs up before he turned back to mixing all the cereals together in strawberry milk.

The pair went up the stairs and into Roman’s room.

The dungeon aesthetic of Remus’ was perfectly countered here. The bright colors and grand balcony made it a picturesque royal chamber in a luxurious castle. What slightly ruined the period piece was the many Disney posters hung up on the walls in gilded frames, the paper balls scattered all over the floor, and the desk that had one too many notebooks stacked on top of it.

“How do you not stain this rug?” Remus asked as he walked over the pristine white rug that covered most of the floor. Brown chunks of dried mud from the morning trailed over it the hairs. Perfect.

He jumped up onto the bed and flopped backwards onto the messy sheets. At least there was a commonality in that neither of them made their bed. Made it easier to grab a blanket and try and roll himself up into a burrito.

“I take my shoes off,” Roman sighed at the mess his brother trailed in. With a wave of his hand the stains were gone as were Remus’ muddy boots.

“Now my feet are cold,” the duke whined.

“Well you dirtied my rug, so fair is fair.”

Remus at up and looked down at the pristine white rug, “You cleaned it!”

“I wouldn’t have had to if you didn’t track dirt wherever you walked!”

Remus untangled himself from the blanket and stood from the bed. This is what he wanted. The fighting, the arguing, the familiar anger at petty things. But as soon as the rush of insults started to make their way into his head his brother shook his head and sat down on his desk chair with a slump.

“This is exactly what I didn’t want to happen.”

“What?” Remus stared at his brother dumbly.

“This,” Roman gestured between the two of them frantically, “The constant arguing, insulting, and anger. It is like every time we are in a room together for longer then a few minutes we are ready to strike each other down in a vicious battle of wits.”

Remus snorted, “As if either of us uses our brains and not our blades.”

Roman gave him a pointed look and Remus just shrugged.

“I am just saying we are not the sharpest blades in the executioner’s drawer.”

Roman shook his head, “I suppose you are right.”

“Whoa, did that hurt for you to say? Are you running a fever?” Remus placed the back of his hand on his brother’s forehead, “I don’t think you are thinking straight.”

“I’m never thinking straight,” Roman countered reflexively.

Remus cackled and moved back to let himself flop into a dark chair he conjured, “But seriously, you never think I am right. Especially not jokes that are insults to both of us.”

Roman looked away and back down to his desk, “I have had a lot of time to think.”

The duke shifted in his seat as the air became heavy with awkwardness again as they both fell silent. A tension was rising, and he was unsure who would be the one to pop the abscess to let the puss free. He bounced his leg as he looked up at the ceiling of the room.

An enchanted ceiling that showed the bright blue sky and shining sun. A few puffy clouds were pushed by an imaginary wind. Not as amazing as his mural, but it was impressive. Remus would stare up at it all day if he could, just to avoid whatever question Roman was holding back.

But Remus was never one to accept long term silences. He reluctantly pulled away from the sky to look directly at Roman.

“Okay, what has got you panties in such a twist?”

Roman glanced at him and then at his hands. His leg was bouncing at nearly the same velocity as Remus’. The duke took it as a silent challenge to bounce his faster. He would win this race of nerves.

“I…Have you done or thought about…ya’ know?”

Remus’ leg stopped bouncing.

Something hot burned inside his stomach at the broken question, “No. If you just wanted to be my nanny, I’m leaving. Unlike what you all think, I’m not some maniac that is trying to use every single opportunity to check out. It was just a dumb idea, like all my other ideas!”

He stood up from the chair. What had he expected when his brother had asked to talk to him one on one for the first time in years?

“Well, how am I supposed to know that?” Roman shot back, “Until a few weeks ago, I had no idea you had been doing this kind of shit for two decades! I am your brother, for Disney’s sake! I should have known about this!”

Remus laughed coldly, “You haven’t tried to be my brother for that long, Roman, maybe you never knew me. All you cared about was making sure your perfect status was boosted by my mistakes.”

The change from anger to shame was like a socker punch to the face for the prince. Roman let the fight hang before it could escalate further and looked down at his feet. The room around them seemed to darken as the bright sky on the ceiling began to fill with dark clouds. His eyes were squeezed tight and face pulled into a miserable frown before it was hidden by his hands.

“He was right…”

Remus looked around, unsure what to do about this sudden change of attitude. He had so many questions. How did a regular fight between siblings turn his brother, his usually egotistic and strong brother, into a defeated mess that sat before him?

“I am the evil twin. He was right.”

Remus stared at the top of his brother’s head as he kept it bowed in shame. Trying to piece together where such a comment came from. It found a home in the brief summary Deceit had given him about what had happened between the sides while he was gone.

All the snake had said was he had insulted his brother after the rude comment over his name. That could not mean…Surely Deceit had some class. Some restraint. He would never—

“That bitch called you evil?” Remus was hurt. Shocked. Flabbergasted. “How dare he call you evil and keep his mouth shut when I wanted that title! That rotten little python!”

“W-what?”

“I have been trying to get Mr.‘morality-is-grey-and-labels-don’t-matter’ to call me pure evil for years, Roman, YEARS! And he gives it to you out of spite. I am wounded, nay! Betrayed! NAY! Slain by the vicious words of the clever caped cobra!”

Remus had a few choice words for his best snake friend in the whole wide world. Mostly along the lines of whining and calling him ‘anus’ for a week just for being such a butt. He almost forgot what had brough this revelation to his hands until a weak, wet laugh brought him back to reality. He sat down in his righted chair with a small thump, dust flying up for ambiance.

“You…you are ridiculous. Why would you want to be called evil?” The small smile dimmed, and he looked down at his knees, “I call you that all the time, insulted you, hurt you enough to…to…”

Remus raised a hand to place it on his brother’s shoulder but pulled away and decided to just pick some dirt under his nails.

“Dee never called me it before. Doesn’t believe in all the fully bad-good stuff, so it seemed like a goal to get it out of the one person that had never said it to me before,” Remus looked down at the waves as he spoke.

A pause hovered between the words before he got his thoughts together to speak them towards the poster for _Frozen._ In a second, he decided to let everything he had bundled away inside him spill out. He had never been good at keeping secrets and there was no use keeping this one now.

“We were kids when it started, I can’t fault you on that, but after so much time called names for something, I can’t control…I just gave into the impulses, I guess. That first time I waited so long for you to show up and then you never did, I even thought you would be there when I woke up after…or if I did. Cause I didn’t know if I would get back up after that kind of jump, you know?”

“Remus—”

Remus continued to talk. Those first years poured out of him like blood from an artery that had been severed. A stream that came too quick with the intention to kill in a matter of minutes. No hope to get the life back into the body as it spilled out in waves.

“I just kept jumping because I liked the freedom from the ideas that I was told constantly I shouldn’t say, shouldn’t do, should not tell Thomas about. Every day it just seemed I did everything wrong and you did everything right. But there, I made a painting of my own creation of my own power,” Remus would pretend the water falling down his face was just from the rain, “And then…you took it all away without even a question of where it came from.”

He finally looked up away from the wall and directly into his twin’s eyes.

“All those years coming back after hours or days of not being around, with some new scar or limp or bruise. No one said anything. Not Patton, not Logan; not even you. I thought I was safe in that bloody oasis but then you came in and just made my whole thing vanish. I-I didn’t want to hurt you, but I was so mad that you didn’t care to push the first lie I told to your face. You didn’t even care what I wanted and then I knew you would never after I almost…”

Remus looked down at Roman’s neck. He could still picture the ring of bruises that had begun to form; where he had pressed in hard and tried to squeeze the life out of him. His wrists shook and he felt the need to pick at the old, deformed scars that slashed across his wrists.

**_I heard going vertical makes the blood run faster._ **

His fingers were stopped just as he made the first deep gouge into the scared skin. Roman carefully pulled them away from the damaged flesh and interlocked their fingers with a gentle squeeze. A reassurance that he was there and alive.

That somehow the vein of truth, the artery that he had slashed and let gush out over him, was now being healed. That there was pressure to keep the blood in and help would be on the way. Or may help was already here. Or something like that. This analogy was getting away from him, honestly. What mattered was, he knew his brother didn’t hate him and that meant the world to him.

“I’m sorry I never saw or cared to look,” Roman said. He paused and took a breath as if he struggled for the words he wanted to say.

“And I’m sorry for harassing you, and beating you up, and trying to kill you that one time.”

The small smile, though brief, was a win in Remus’ book.

“You are not the evil twin Remus.”

A small sentence, not even that profound in structure, hit Remus at the core and caused his thoughts to halt. He had tried so hard to present as the evil twin he was told he was. To be nasty as everyone believed he was. This, that sentence, punched a large hole into the façade.

“Neither are you,” was all he could think to say.

Roman seemed surprised by that quick statement from the shaking duke. Remus was the one that now held tightly to his brother’s hands.

“But I…”

“You aren’t the good twin either, so don’t get your ego too large,” Remus cut in quickly, “We are just hot fucking garbage twins, no good or bad. Just us.”

“Deceit has rubbed off on you too much, you are sounding like him with all this ‘no good/no bad’.”

Remus gave a large grin, “Oh, he has done so much more then rubbed me off, brother dear.”

Roman let go of his twin’s hands and pushed him back with disgust, “Gross! I didn’t need to hear that! Ah! No, why must you be like this during heartfelt moments!?! I don’t want to know that, bleh! Why!?!”

Remus cackled. The mood changing around them as he felt another bridge, long torn down, was being rebuilt between them.

“You are the one that set it up so well, I just couldn’t resist,” Remus said through his laughter, “But don’t worry, I’m up to share if you want some double D action.”

Remus’s cackles were muffled as a pillow was thrown directly at his face. The shock of being smacked with a soft weapon was only considered for a second before he jumped at his brother. The soft pillow smacked into the prince’s face about three times before he was fought off.

The hit back only made the duke cackle louder.

“You cannot just retaliate for something you deserved!”

“I don’t think I deserved any of the sort,” Remus blocked a swing with his pillow, “It wasn’t even true, the things I said.”

Remus didn’t care that the neck smack that landed hurt his nose a little. He just swung his own pillow with a giggle without a care that he missed.

“Then why did you say it!?!”

Remus ducked under the next attack and moved to place the large, king sized bed between them.

“I knew it would make you all huffy, Prince Prude-ence.”

Remus yelped as his twin launched over the bed and tackled him to the floor. He rolled to avoid being pinned, which ended with the two brothers rolling around on the floor in a mock wrestling match. One that Remus was not afraid to play dirty in.

The long, wet lick that went up his twin’s arm as he tried to keep the duke down to smack him with one of the discarded pillows ended the power struggle there. Roman let out a high-pitched scream and scrambled off his twin.

“Did you just lick me!?!”

Remus grinned, “Maybe.”

“I’ve been infected! How long as it been since you brushed your teeth!?!”

Remus thought it over in his head, “What year is it?”

He didn’t think Roman’s horrified expression could get any more dramatic. He was wrong. Remus watched as his twin rushed to the bathroom and the sound of the sink started. Oh Roman. The prince could go on a quest where he ended up covered in mud, but one little lick and it is the end of the world.

He only looked away when the door was thrown open and Virgil entered looking ready to kill an intruder. The glare barely softened when he spotted Remus laying on the floor. The duke gave a little wiggle of his fingers in greeting.

“What did you do?” came the accusatory question.

“Oh please, Knight in Patchwork Armor, I didn’t do anything but be an ass of a brother. No need to come avenging on your high horse.”

Virgil’s gaze only weakened for a second before it was disturbed by the prince entering the room once more. He threw the red towel he was using to dry his arms off over his shoulder. A smile appeared on his face when he spotted Virgil in his room.

“Virgil, what are you doing here?”

“You screamed.”

Red dusted the prince’s face, “Ah, yes, well. One does that when you are licked by a rabid dog.”

Remus placed a hand over where he should have a heart, “That is a label I will cherish forever.”

Virgil’s shoulders slumped as he looked between the pair. Remus could see the cogs working in that head of his. Questions that probably go unasked because the side was too nervous to ask them. Virgil shoved his hands into his hoodie pockets and let his ‘high alert’ stance relax into a slouch once more.

“He just licked you? And you screamed like you were being murdered?”

Remus started to giggle. He pressed his hand to his mouth to try and muffle the noise, but it only began to turn into full on laughter. The ridiculousness of the situation and the whole weirdness of the day seeming to smash into him at this very moment. Sitting on the white carpet in his brother’s room.

“Wimp,” Virgil said and that broke the duke.

Remus fell back and let out all the laughter he had been trying to hide. He just felt so much all at once. Happy that the others wanted to talk to him again. Angry that they had found out. Disheartened by Virgil’s immediate accusatory glare when he had come in. Ecstatic that he got to ramble for hours with Logan and tease this brother once more. Drained because this is the most time he had spent with multiple people in years.

It was just bubbling out and he didn’t care to stop it. He got up to his feet, still laughing, and patted his brother’s shoulder.

“He calls it like he sees it, Ro.”

He moved around Virgil, still laughing like a deranged maniac, and left the room. His laughter only began to slow down as he made his way down the stairs back towards his home. He wondered if Deceit had gotten out of bed yet. He hoped not, it would deprive him of his favorite job which was waking him up.

*

*

*

The rest of the day settled into the familiar that Remus had known for most of his life while living with Deceit. He had jumped onto the sleeping snake and laughed at the hissed insults until the snake had gotten his brunch. He spent the day going between bothering his friend, creating art for the fridge, or sending out a few ideas of his own towards Thomas.

Some unusual things did happen. His ideas were not immediately rejected, but processed to tone them down slightly, and Thomas seemed interested in his input for the story he had been wanting to write. He almost felt like he was floating when his human wrote out a note in his phone on a plot point, he had come up with.

Patton also came down when Deceit was out with Logan in the afternoon. He had brought lunch and they both ended up watching the Office bloopers. It had been a weird experience but one that Remus was not going to refuse if it happened again. Especially if he gets a way too sugary sandwich again with a lot of marshmallow fluff.

Now as evening rolled into the darkness of the night, the other sides had settled out in the world with Thomas for a movie. Usually he would be all for slipping behind the couch and watching along, but he was tired. Drained but in a good way. It seemed like a better idea to let Janus go have his own fun while he rested on their living room couch watching a cheesy B-list horror movie by himself.

Janus had nothing to fear about leaving him alone, something he had to assure the snake side. He was perfectly content to be on his own for a few hours, eat some stale popcorn, and laugh at the terrible acting and bad effects.

He shoved another handful of popcorn into his mouth as the lead actress, a blonde supposed to be virgin teenager played by an actress in her twenties, ran from the camera that acted as the eyes of the pursuer. She was just slow enough to never be able to get away but still fast enough where the thing could not grab her.

Remus wished they would move back over the jock and the nerd who were both terrible closeted and just needed to fuck already. Sure, that would mean they would die faster by horror movie logic, but it would make this whole thing more interesting.

His attention was pulled away from the screen as the couch cushions by his legs were pushed down as someone took a seat. He expected to see Janus there, tired of everyone’s buffoonery and here to deal with Remus’ own tomfoolery.

It wasn’t Janus.

The popcorn bowl fell to the floor and made a mess of the carpet, but Remus didn’t care. He could only stare at the skeleton onesie and feel how the nervous leg bounce made the whole couch move like a vibrating chair.

But lost of words he was not.

“Oh, is it pajama part time? Now I feel overdressed.”

“You aren’t even wearing a shirt. Or pants.”

Remus shrugged, “Yeah, and I don’t sleep in anything. So, there you go.”

He grabbed the remote and hit pause.

The action seemed to make Virgil more nervous. The leg bouncing increased speed as he sat on the very edge of his seat. His eyes stayed glued to the screen with only a few glances over at Remus. The awkward air was suffocating.

Last time Remus was alone with Virgil he had gotten punched, threatened, and dragged through the mud. He wasn’t sure what to expect now. He pushed away the hope that maybe Virgil wanted to come back to them, because was there even a need for the divide between ‘families’ anymore?

“This was a bad idea,” Virgil said and moved to stand up, “Go back to your movie, pretend I wasn’t here.”

“Now you got me curious,” Remus grabbed the back of Virgil’s onesie and pulled him back down, “What is going on in that head of ours, Nervous Nelly?”

Virgil made a face but did not move to pull away. He sat there with his leg bouncing for enough time for the T.V. screen to go dim as it waited for someone to press play again. The terrified face of the actress staring back out at them as if pleading for them to end her suffering.

Then he spoke.

“That blood was your own, wasn’t it?”

The question seemed out of context, but Remus knew what he was talking about. The night he left.

“You showed me your own blood and I thought…I just brushed it off as you being something evil. I didn’t even try and stick around to make sure you were okay after the whole beheaded thing.”

“Yeah,” Remus said slowly, “For anxiety you kind of suck at observing things.”

The joke only made the side next to him deflate.

“I thought to get the others to like me I had to treat you like they did.”

“But you didn’t,” Remus cut in, “You started to treat us worse. Like you never even knew us or cared about us.”

“I know that!” Virgil snapped but looked away ashamed after a second, “I know. I know what I did. I traded one family for another, and I didn’t care.”

Remus let go of Virgil and sat back. A contemplative look on a face that should be so full of energy and life. He could tell it spooked Virgil but why should he care about that? Virgil just admitted to him that he didn’t care about his old friends. That he knew that he treated them both like trash for reasons that only made sense to him.

“Do you care now?”

“Yes,” Virgil answered quickly and them made a face, “No. I don’t know. I want to care.”

“Are you just saying this because I hanged myself?”

The air in the room could have been sucked out through and air lock. Virgil stopped bouncing his leg and Remus was still. The duke could be patient when he needed to be. He would stay seated here all night if it took time for Virgil to get an answer.

“Yes,” the anxious side said slowly, “but also no. After you showed up to Thomas and I told him that I was…ya’ know…I started to actually think about what life had been like down here. It had been shitty before Deceit formed, sure, and after that I had something to put my time into. Then you got dragged in by the snake and it was nice. I just thought that there was a choice between Thomas and down here. And to get to Thomas I had to act like a light side.”

“Or how you thought light side’s acted.”

“Yeah, and that just led to me looking for excuses to leave. Yet even after a month of fully being a light side, I still thought about you guys. It only got worse after you showed your mustached face to Thomas. I just thought about the dumb marathons, the loud wake up calls in the morning, brunch, even your monster of laundry piles you would leave around the hallway.

“I don’t know if I just care about a memory of what life had been like or if I actually care about the now. I don’t want to just waltz back in and be like ‘yeah, I want to start over’ after I made you put a damn bullet in your brain! **_I fucking punched you the last time I talked to you without the others and how does that make me better then anyone? If anyone is a dark side, it has to be me because I don’t know if I care or even cared at all!_** ”

“Hey, calm down Emo, just breath.”

Remus moved closer to Virgil’s side, but did not move to touch. He counted under his breath for Virgil to follow along. He didn’t pull back when Virgil took his hand and squeezed painfully tight.

The scared eyes of the actress watched them as the anxious energy in the air slowly began to fade as Virgil caught his breath. His hand was still wrapped tightly around Remus’ and it seemed he had no intention of letting go any time soon.

“It seems to me,” Remus spoke carefully, “That if you didn’t care you wouldn’t be so worried about not caring. But I’m no expert on this. All I know is that you leaving was the second worst day in my life and I never understood what I had done to make you hate me.”

Virgil wiped his face with his sleeve.

“Now I know that I didn’t do anything but be myself. Something you thought couldn’t be allowed around you because that would mean you weren’t fully accepted. Which is bullshit.”

Virgil didn’t laugh, but he now was looking directly at Remus. His eyeshadow had become darker and almost streaked across his face from where he had rubbed.

“I don’t know if I can forgive you yet, if at all, but I am sick of this mushy shit today with everyone pouring their hearts out to me. So, do you want to watch this bad movie with me or not?”

“What?”

“Watch.” He pointed to his eyes. “Movie” He pointed to the screen. “With me.” He pointed to himself.

Virgil pushed the hands away, “I heard you, but why would you want to watch a movie with me? After all I did and just said?”

“Because I’m tired, you are here, and I want quiet affection. Plus, Jan is too small to lay on without crushing him.”

“Oh, I see, you are using me as a bed/pillow.”

“It is part of your forgiveness bill I am making up right now.”

Virgil rolled his eyes and moved to lay down across the couch. A wave of the creative side’s hand got him into a sandworm onesie to be match with Virgil and not subject him to having a mostly naked duke laying on him. It was a familiar scene that they made, with Remus laid across him like a flesh blanket and ear pressed right over the anxious side’s heart. The familiar beats of Virgil’s fast paced heart an old comfort that almost made Remus want to cry. He missed the little things about his friend.

“I was thinking Beetlejuice after this stupid move is done,” Remus pressed play on the remote and the woman’s screams continued as she was chased.

“You always want to watch that.”

“And I always will until I can figure out how to stretch my face out like Adam and Barbara.”

“Which I hope never happens.”

_One, two, three. One, two, three._

“New part of the bill, don’t crush my impossible dreams.”

The woman on the screen fell out into the backyard. As she did so, the pursuer seemed to vanish, and she was alone in the dark woods. Virgil muttered something about how she should not just walk back towards the house after getting out, even as the actress did so. Neither of them jumped in fright as the monster came out and the screen went dark as she screamed. A perfect ending to the night.

*

*

*

Remus woke up with the question of ‘when did I fall asleep’ on his mind. He remembered starting the next movie, laughing at the crude jokes and questioning why Barbara and Adam never showed marks of how they died on screen. He faintly remembers the dinner party scene, but the rest of the movie were only pulled from memories from another time.

He shifted a little and looked around the dark living room. The T.V. was off and the only sound in the dark was the faint hum of the air vents. He was alone now. Sometime during his sleep, Virgil had slipped out from under him and left.

It was late, at least Remus guessed it was, so he couldn’t blame the emo for wanting to go sleep in his own bed. Even when Virgil had lived down here with him, the emo had wanted to sleep on his own. Probably because the last sleep over they had Remus ended up smothering him with a pillow, never mind that it was him sleep assassinating.

Remus shook his head to push the memory back into the fuzzy recesses of his mind. He let his body fall off the couch with a graceless thump; the blanket tangled around his shoulders like a cape. A tired zombie of a man as he stumbled to his feet and made his way towards the hallway.

He passed his own room and the bare wall that had once housed Virgil’s door. He let a long, loud yawn escape him as he pushed open the door at the very end.

“See, this is why you don’t wake up till noon,” he said before the door was fully open.

Deceit was sat on his bed, legs crossed, reading a paper back novel in the dim light of the lamp next to his bed. He didn’t look up from the pages, his eyes quickly scanning the words that were probably the end of a sentence.

“No, I don’t wake up before noon because mornings are the only true evil in this world,” the snake replied.

He stuck the bookmark between the pages and laid it down on the nightstand.

“Mornings are great, you are just a grumpy snake.”

Remus stumbled over to the bed and let himself fall onto it with a sigh. The heated blanket he had gotten his reptilian friend for Christmas was on and the warmth felt lovely.

“Yes, please, make yourself comfortable,” Janus’ voice dripped with sarcasm.

“Thanks, Jan, you are the best.” Remus crawled up fully onto the bed and got cozy next to the snake.

“I suppose this means I will not get to finish my book then.”

Remus snuggled down under the blanket he had brought with him and the heated one that laid across the bed, “Nope. No cuddles, or I start screaming!”

Deceit groaned in annoyance as if this were a great burden that had been pushed on him, but that did not hide the small smile that appeared as Remus was hugged close. The snap of a finger had the lamp click off and plunge them into darkness.

“I would have thought you got enough cuddling done with Virgil earlier.”

“It was penitence cuddling, not the same as good old boa constrictor cuddles.”

Deceit chuckled, “I’m flattered. And I am also glad you had a productive day. I hope things will be slightly better for you now.”

“What about you?”

The hand that had begun to run through Remus’ hair stopped, “What do you mean?”

Remus pulled out of the hug and looked down through the darkness at Deceit. The other side had put on his mask of indifference, but it could not trick the duke.

“What about you? Sure, I am kind of glad that the others know now. You were right and all that, ya-da ya-da. But you, are you okay after all this?”

Deceit sat up and turned on the light again. Remus blinked rapidly to adjust to the sudden onslaught.

“I really don’t know what you mean. Remus, this was your secret. This was about your life, literally, I hardly had a part to play.”

“That isn’t true. You may think you didn’t do much, but I don’t think I would have slowed down if you hadn’t been there to check on me. Even though it hurt you a lot.”

“It didn’t-,” Deceit bit his lip at the face that Remus gave him, “Okay, it hurt a little…a lot. It hurt a lot. I’m all about preserving the self and you were literally trying to off said self. And I couldn’t tell anyone and even if I did, they would probably have not believed me. I hated that secret but it was the one of the few things I had to hold onto.

“But now I don’t have that secret. I don’t even have my name hidden from the others, though the mess in Thomas’ head is a long way off of being cleaned up, it is like I am the one that is about to walk off a cliff.”

Remus leaned over Janus and turned the light out; he used the same arm to make the snake lay back down. He curled protectively around the other side.

“The falling is scary but you always land somewhere, so don’t worry. I’m sorry I ever asked you to keep that secret in the first place.”

“I never regretted finding out, I just regretted that I couldn’t help you kick the habit.”

The darkness around them swallowed any other words that wanted to be spoken about the subject. Remus had a million things he wanted to atone for, say, and even do to try and get rid of his own worry for his friend. The friend that had taken care of him for years.

Deceit spoke out to the darkness after a few minutes of silence, “I don’t expect you to just stop now that everyone knows. But I hope you understand that now you have a lot of people that have told you they care about you. They will be looking out for any sign.”

“Yeah, I figured you were going to make them all a bunch of stalkers.”

Janus chuckled, “You know my plots so well, but I doubt you counted on me forbidding your brother and Virgil’s request to have you microchipped like a dog.”

“Janus,” Remus whined, “Now how am I supposed to get all my information stolen by the government?”

“Like everyone else. Off their web cameras, internet history, and phone data. Now sleep, you know Thomas wants to start filming early tomorrow morning and I am dreading it.”

Remus giggled and got comfortable, listening closely for when Janus’ breathes evening out as he drifted off to sleep. His own mind was too busy to fall asleep that quickly. Story ideas, video plots, and just a few catchy tunes ran through his head like a constant stream.

For once he didn’t want them to shut off. He didn’t want to calm of the void. He was happy to just grab onto a random thought and let the scene play out in his head like a bloody daydream until it eventually lulled him into sleep. A sleep that insured he would wake up safe and loved the next morning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The End 💚

**Author's Note:**

> Not edited. Point out any mistakes.


End file.
